


Open Arms

by Paperbackwriter22



Series: Problem Children [3]
Category: AC/DC (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Character Death, F/M, Fanfiction, Friends to Lovers, Illnesses, Love, Marriage, Realistic, Romance, Sad Ending, Series Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paperbackwriter22/pseuds/Paperbackwriter22
Summary: "Lyin' beside you, here in the dark feeling your heart beat with mine..."





	1. Chapter One

There will never be enough time to tell you. There will never come a day I wish I didn't tell you this sooner. I tried to, but it seems my mouth didn't open when it was supposed to. Of course, it always opened when it wasn't. You'd get real sore with me. But I'll never forget you running your mouth just as much.  
Sorry, I got off track. I always do when I'm around you. It's not your fault, but I won't say that little smile of yours had nothing to do with it.  
Anyway, what I really came here to say is, you're one of my best friends. If you asked me when I was eight years old I would have thrown you under the bus and drove off but...now I gotta admit, you always were one of my friends. We would have been friends a lot sooner if you had just given me that cookie.

"...Sorry."

I shouldn't hold a grudge against you. I did take it after all. But Mum never really packed them for me, she said all that sugar would mess my teeth up. Well, she couldn't stop me when I moved out now, could she? I ate all the cookies I wanted.  
Of course, you already knew that. You baked a lot of the ones I ate. I'll never forget the time you made those oatmeal ones, but you didn't add the butter? Dryest things we ever ate. But, I didn't mind. You laughing at me when I made a face was enough for me. I started laughing too.  
That's something I'm gonna miss the most. That laugh, especially the one with the snort. Stevie could not believe a snort like that came out of your mouth, he thought for sure it was me. Then of course he had to make you laugh to see for himself and that ended up a mess. Bon had his soup all over his face and across the table...we made Phil clean it up.  
You and Bon, what a pair. Hectic, spontaneous, broke everything you touched. Nothing of mine thank goodness. But, I'll get to that in a minute. I know, that if Bon were here, he'd salute you. What you put up with, right until the last minute. You had quite a fight, and Bon knew quite a bit about those, you know.   
But the havoc you two made...makes me wonder what the hell he taught you. Like I said, you wouldn't touch anything of mine. Except one thing, one little thing you stole.  
And it's still with you. I'm never getting it back.   
I guess that's the price of one little cookie, huh?


	2. Chapter Two

"For the last time, you look fine, Angus."

"Is my tie straight enough? I was in a rush this morning an' I don't have a bunch of people dressin' me like she does, I don't trust myself."

"No one I know can tie a tie better than you with all the practice you get," Malcolm said setting a basket of flowers down on a stand by one of the chairs. They were red and white roses, with duplicates lining the path in the middle of the room. White lace backed every other chair while red lace took over the other half. Stained glass windows stood high above the room, painting colors of their own when the sun came in. The sun was always shining on this particular day in December. The chairs were still empty but as the minutes passed they would fill up with whomever they wanted to invite, and those they couldn't ignore. A table stood way in the back with a white cake with red trim, clear glasses lining up beside it in five rows. An empty bowl with a ladle was next to that, the chain on the giant spoon swinging idly. Malcolm had a hand under his chin as he examined the basket he just set down. It was moved slightly to the left, then turned to the right. He smiled at it then turned to face his brother, whose face matched the decorations around them. "We've still got a couple hours, you can do it over again if you want."

"No, I can't waste time on that, I have to stand there and greet everyone who walks through the doors," Angus said rubbing his hands together.

"What makes you the greeter?"

Angus shrugged. "Dunno, it's polite I guess. I mean, it's expected to be nice to your own family, ya' know."

"I know. But-what about Hannah's?" Malcolm asked. He scanned the mass of empty chairs. "We might have brought out too many."

"She had a cousin comin', didn't she?" Angus asked.

"Called this morning. Business meeting in Boston tonight at six thirty." Angus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and quickly stopping once he remembered he had to look nice. "She said it'll be a miracle if she can get to Los Angeles by midnight."

"Midnight?" Angus yelled. "It'll be over by then." Malcolm gave him a look that said he never would have guessed. "So...no one's comin'?"

"Maybe Hermione," Malcolm smiled to himself. It vanished upon seeing Angus' face. "I know for certain Travis isn't comin', an'...her mum I can't say."

"Don't ever let me hear that name again," Angus said rolling his eyes. "Got rid of that guy a year ago, I don't wanna bring him up."

"No one does." Angus, going against his plan of greeting anyone attending, sat down on one of the chairs in the second row and put his head in his hand. Malcolm sighed and sat next to him. Angus lifted his head when Malcolm draped an arm over him. "He's gone now an' you two are gonna have a different life now. Without him in it. You saw that panic in his eyes. Even he knew he wasn't gonna be let out till death do they part," Malcolm snorted.

"They?"

"Him," Malcolm stood up. "and those bars." Angus winced and put his head down again. Here and there ran a few people hired to decorate the place for the day, and one woman leaving the building for some unknown reason. The row of seats only carried one person now as Malcolm left for the dressing rooms in the back. "Don't worry so much, Ang. Nothing's goin' wrong today. It's my job to make sure of that, remember?"

Angus didn't answer before Malcolm disappeared behind the doors. He was alone now in the big room, soon to be filled with dozens of his kin. Not everyone he invited was he looking forward to seeing. Not all of them had met Hannah, and there would be at least ten questions for her from each guest. Not all of them would be exactly appropriate. He could see his own mother hanging on to Hannah's every word and beaming whenever she said something good about him. Then his mother would proceed to explain in great detail every accident he's had growing up, ones he's heard a million times.

He could see Margaret teasing him. Wondering why her little brother kept a friend of his a secret from her for so long. Nothing at all about how Malcolm never said a word, because it wasn't his wedding. And then his father...cornering both him and Malcolm about all that happened, asking why they hadn't asked his opinion on the situations, or why it took Angus so long to admit what he was feeling in the first place. He'd get a chewing out and a pat on the shoulder, and then him and Malcolm would find a table to sit and talk sports with. Angus would be left vulnerable to his many other various siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins. He was almost glad he only had one family to deal with.

Then he remembered Hannah not having any family at all there. The only ones she had that were close and that didn't have a business meeting were either in jail, or distancing themselves away from whatever she chose to do with her life. The family Angus loved to pieces yet the same one that drove up him up the wall was the only one Hannah was going to have. He was thankful to have them, and happy that they would show up and keep them all company. 

 

The sound echoed loudly in the hall as Malcolm knocked on the door. It opened a crack and a woman stuck her head out. "Hey," Malcolm smiled.

"Just you out there?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, Ang would have come but he's havin' a bit of nerves out there an' couldn't stand up to walk over. Maybe we ought to give him a chair for the alter." The woman grabbed Malcolm's hand and pulled him in the room making sure the door was closed behind them. Malcolm rubbed his arm. "Jesus, you just tie a corset or somethin' with that grip?"

"I don't want Angus seeing her before it's time, Mal," the woman answered. "She's letting her hair sit a few minutes under the iron but I can't risk putting bad luck on a new couple." Malcolm took a seat on the small couch and helped himself to the plate of crackers and cheese blocks on toothpicks sitting on the table.

"You still believe in all that, Margaret?" The cracker was stale and broke easily in his lap. Sighing, he brushed the crumbs off his lap and hid the other half in the cushion. "Angus isn't the most graceful man on the planet, he'd bring bad luck enough on his own."

"Tell me more, make me feel better about it all." Margaret found a mirror on a wall and smoothed out her own dress and hair. She found a yellow one in her closet that morning and thought it would look lovely under the December sunshine. Of course she didn't notice the slight fray at the bottom until she got there and quickly found a pair of scissors to cut it off. Her hair had been curling since the night before and was pulled up that morning. Satisfied with her appearance she turned to face her brother, who had stuck the last piece of cheese in his mouth. "Oh bother, Malcolm, those were for us!"

The toothpick was taken out. "Why didn't you finish 'em then? Had a whole plate right here!" Margaret sighed and took to a chair on the opposite side of the room. The plate, now only full of stale crackers was set aside. "The crackers have gone to crap waitin' for you to eat 'em."

"They were like that anyway, we weren't gonna eat those." She looked out the window and saw a few cars pull up in the driveway outside the church. A few she recognized, the others she guessed were new or borrowed for the occasion. She saw George and a few of his friends step out of one. "George is here."

"Great, won't have to pay a band," Malcolm snorted again.

"Isn't your own band coming too?"

"Oh yeah, the guys'll be right along. Probably still drunk from that party they threw Angus, the one Angus didn't even want and didn't show up to. They're comin'."

"I hope they don't make a mess. I spent a whole thirty minutes wiping down one table, and that was with help."

"Come on, Marg, you should know better. Our mates don't go anywhere without makin' a mess," Malcolm smiled. Margaret sighed and rubbed her temple. "They'll be fine, quit worryin' so much. You and Ang might as well be siblings with the way you act." His smile disappeared as he realized what he said. "Wait a minute..."

"You're a sharp one, Mal. Real sharp." A door closed within the same room and Margaret stood up to check on the person responsible. "You ready yet for styling?" she asked from the other side.

A few muffled sentences that Malcolm could hardly understand came back as a response. Margaret seemed to have understood because she walked away from the door and grabbed a spare brush sitting by itself. "She nervous?"

"Shaking like a leaf all morning," Margaret said opening the small bathroom door. Another few sentences came out, Malcolm hearing the words 'who' and 'talking'. "It's just Malcolm in here with us, he ditched Angus at the alter."

"I did it so you don't have to, Hannah, you can jus' go right up there an' get the job done." Malcolm heard a, "Thanks a lot, Mal," before the bathroom door closed again with Margaret inside. Relaxing on the couch he picked up another cracker and inspected it before setting it down again. Angus had been wrong about Hannah having a bunch of people dressing her. Margaret was it. She got up at four in the morning to get herself ready so she could be on time that afternoon to help out. None of them could thank her enough. A few more car doors slammed closed outside but Malcolm didn't bother getting up to check on who the guests were, if ninety seven percent of them were his family. 

 

Angus hadn't left the chair at all since Malcolm left. He felt glued to it, that if he left it the room would suddenly be filled with people and the music would start up. He knew they still had an hour and a half before the big moment but he couldn't help his racing heart. His sleeve cuffs had rolled up inside his jacket and he pulled them down again. They were moist with a bit of sweat from his palms as a result. Random thoughts began to swim in his mind such as, if he remembered to feed Hermione before he left or if he was going to wash the suit tonight or leave it until the next day. Margaret would be happy to do it for him but he wanted to try it himself, knowing his sister had already done more than enough. He'd have to repay her, even if it meant letting her ask all the questions she wanted.

A door opened and closed in the back of the room and Angus waited for his brother to show up again beside him, telling him not to worry, only making him worry more. His palms weren't sweating anymore but his leg compensated and started to bounce in place. The empty alter in front of him stared at him, and he stared right back. Looking at it made him feel a little sick and he looked around for water to drink. Getting out of the chair was the first thing he had to do, so he gripped the chair in the first row and pulled himself up. It was a lot easier than he expected, as he wasn't the only one doing all the work.

His mouth was covered from behind and a cloth was tied over his eyes. There were too many hands on him to count but he guessed about four, half of them in places they didn't belong. Two new arms encircled his waist after hoisting him out of the chair keeping him from pulling away. Muffled protests echoed throughout the room but no one was there to hear or help. Using his legs to kick in any direction he pleased he was lifted by his legs and rendered helpless by the captors. If Malcolm was playing a joke on him he was going to be very sorry, Angus would make sure of it. Then he considered if maybe he was truly being kidnapped, and Malcolm had no idea. How do you like that? Kidnapped on your own wedding day!

Angus was carried down the aisle toward the door of the church, the man wincing as he heard the heavy doors open and shut, and the light breeze outside. Still squirming in his hold he resorted to licking the person's hand on his mouth, to which he only received a familiar laugh. The hands holding his arms at his sides adjusted him and almost lost his hold, Angus afraid to be dropped on the road. Using what little ability he had, he edged his hand up his chest and grabbed onto his tie, making sure it wasn't damaged or messed up. The hand on his mouth moved to do who knows what, and Angus took full advantage.

"What the fuck are you doin'?"

They didn't answer. Not at first.

Immediately the hand was covering his mouth again, his screams once again masked to the rest of the world. It seemed like a long walk in the position he was in until finally a car door was opened and Angus was shifted to stand on his feet. Keeping his arms pinned, someone pushed him into the back of the vehicle and climbed in after him, the door slamming shut. Angus guessed the two other doors that opened and closed were the ones in the front seat. As he was given the use of his hands he pulled away the cloth with a bit of trouble. The person next to him helped, taking the cloth and setting it down.

Angus' eyes adjusted and he saw three other men in the car with him; one next to him, and two in the front like he thought. The man next to him gave him the cheekiest smile he ever saw, and he would have smacked it off of him if he weren't so confused. "What the fuck are you buggy shits doin'?" he asked.

"Offerin' you our congratulations," Phil started.

"And our sincerest apologies," Cliff finished. He buckled his seat belt while Phil started the car and backed out of the parking spot. "We would have been here sooner but Bon was still sleepin' off a hangover."

"These two magically didn't have one," Bon thumbed ahead of him still giving Angus the smile he knew was pissing him off. "An' I had the mother of all, I think they gave theirs to me."

"You earned 'em," Phil said turning the wheel. "Drank at least a hundred bottles."

"A million," Bon answered for him. Angus stared at the men. None of them had the decency to call ahead or even explain themselves as they drove him away from the church with an hour and twenty minutes left until his big day. Bon must have read his mind and laughed that familiar laugh. "You look like a dog with your tongue hangin' out like that, ya' know, Ang?"

Angus closed his mouth. The car exited the parking lot and took off down the road, Phil swerving a few times while Cliff told him the shortcuts. Farther and farther was the church behind him, Malcolm probably having one hernia that the relatives not so praised had shown up, and a second one upon finding out that Angus wasn't there anymore. He knew exactly what time it was yet he checked his watch every few seconds, waiting for one of them to explain. Finally Phil spoke. "So. You're gettin' married, eh, Ang?"

"That's our congratulations," Cliff said. Angus placed his hand on the door handle.

"What's your apologies for, kidnapping me?"

"No. Well, yes, but mostly for the fact that we didn't ask permission first."

"To kidnap me?!"

"No!" Cliff yelled back. "I mean, yes, but I meant permission to throw you-"

"Throw me in the back of some random car an' drive me away, yeah that's real bright of you lot," Angus spat.

"...throw you a little party before the wedding. And this isn't some random car, it's mine. I rented it while we were in town so we could get here without stopping to put gas in ours-" Cliff's sentence cut abruptly as Phil slammed on the brakes to stop at the light. Angus gripped the handle tighter.

"You had one!" he yelled. "A party, you had one yesterday, that's why you're all drunk!"

"Wrong. We were drunk yesterday, weren't we?" Bon smiled.

"You're all drunk!"

"Hush up, Ang. We're doin' you a favor, you'll see. Hey Phil, ease up on the lights, okay? Still not feelin' a hundred percent," Bon said leaning back in his seat.

"Jus' drivin' like you told me," Phil said. "As quick as I can."

"Why didn't Cliff drive?" Angus asked panting, one hand holding onto his heart. The light turned green and they continued down the road.

"Have you ridden with him? He's an old man!" Phil laughed. "Drives the car like a boat, as if he's gonna fish out on the highway. Only have so much time to get there an' back, an' I know my way around a spill if there is one."

"I'm a careful driver, that's all."

"Where the hell are we goin', anyway? I can't leave, I have to be there at the alter in less than two hours!" Angus grabbed onto his tie again, fiddling with the end.

"We know how a wedding works, Angus, I've had one," Bon said. "We didn't show up alone, you really want to stand around for an hour talkin' to your relatives makin' your nerves even worse than they are?"

"Is it down this road?" Phil asked taking the middle lane.

"No, you're gonna want to turn left, or else it'll be three hours before Angus comes back," Cliff said. Angus blanched.

"That car behind me isn't a Phil Rudd fan today," Phil said turning the car sharply around the corner, skidding into the left lane. He looked through the mirror and saw the car slowly driving forward as if it had been scared back a few feet. "Huh. Should have signaled."

"You're psychotic," Angus breathed as he looked out the window. While he hadn't been looking forward to dealing with the constant buzzing of his family about his love life he had been eager to seal the deal, and marry the woman he loved. Having his plans for the day cut short was a bit of a disappointment.

"It's your fault for not showin' up to the last one. We had a great time, didn't we?" Bon asked the men seated in front of him. "See? Yeah..." he said when they nodded.

"I had fun watchin' Bon hittin' on the girls there," Phil said. "Should have seen 'em, one pushed him over just a little bit, an' 'cause he was so pissed he jus' toppled over." Cliff joined in on the laughing while Angus only cracked half a smile. As angry as he was at them, their antics never failed to get him to grin. Bon didn't laugh either, only he had a pout on his face.

"Aw, Rudd, let's not be so modest. Lest we forget what that woman did to you," he said as Phil turned in his seat to look at him. Bon's pout turned upward at the glare.

"That wasn't her, that was her sister."

"I thought they were friends," Cliff said.

"The blonde one?" He nodded. "No, definitely her sister."

"Where the fuck are you guys takin' me?" Angus asked, making sure not to stray from the real issue. He let go of his tie in case it got any wrinkles from being folded up. Bon didn't answer, the groom then turning to Phil in front.

"What?" His brow furrowed in the mirror.

"Where are we goin'? If I said I didn't want a party why are you throwin' one?" Phil looked over at Bon, who decided he should be the one explaining this part.

"Every man's mates throw him a party before he weds, don't you know? An' every man wants a party whether or not he says. You'll wish you had said when it's over, eh?" Bon elbowed Angus into the window who then frowned in his spot. His annoyance returned as their explanation wasn't worthy enough to earn his forgiveness. Bon looked out the window on his side, then placed one hand on Angus' knee and the other on his shoulder as he looked out the opposite window. Angus futilely attempted to push him off, grimacing under the smell. "Hey Rudd, turn here, this is a good place to start."

"Start?" Angus shouted from underneath him. "One bar is bad enough, we're not hoppin' around just to let you three get drunk again. Or more drunk, as the case may be."

"We told you, Ang, we were drunk last night! Now. We ain't goin' to a bar, mate." Angus frowned at the men, who all smiled in return. "You ever been to see a show? A real one?" A look of shock replaced the frown. Bon thumbed outside. "Look out your window."

Turning to face the glass Angus saw a dark colored building with dimly lit windows. The music inside was so loud he could hear it from the car, and it only got louder the closer the car drove. Turning in the parking lot he could see the front of the building where very nicely dressed people came and left. A sign on the top was written in red cursive and he had to squint to see what it said. "Alligator Moat..." Angus read. He turned to face the band. "That's the name of a bar."

He jumped in his seat as Bon, Phil, and Cliff started laughing at once. He couldn't even hear the music anymore and Phil killed the engine as he pulled into an open spot. Looking from one to the other he saw they all had tears in their eyes. "We're kiddin'! This is a bar, we were jus' takin' the piss-but you should have seen your face!" Bon wagged a finger in Angus' face and he pushed it away, crossing his arms. "Come on, you think we'd be that indecent to bring you to a show on your wedding day? We're not that gross."

"Jus' a joke, Ang. We're full of 'em today, an' you're the maid-man of honor," Cliff said getting out of the car and opening the door for him. Bon reached over and unbuckled his seat belt for him and himself, and stepped out of the car where Phil was waiting, spinning the keys on his finger. Angus refused to move, so Cliff grabbed his arm and pulled him out.

"So you are gettin' drunk," he huffed.

"No we're not, and neither are you," Bon said. "You think I got so popular here jus' by drinkin'?" Taking Angus by the arm while Cliff and Phil walked, practically skipped to the building ahead of them, Bon grinned the whole way. Angus took notice of their attire. Bon only had a black shirt and jeans while the other two had blue shirts. Phil had a watch on his wrist. Angus suddenly felt too dressed up, despite the occasion. Angus checked his own watch.

"It's an hour before it starts," he said.

"We won't be here an hour," Bon said. "Right. We'll start here, then head north for some more fun."

"We'll stop here for a few laughs, then goin' right back to the church," Angus said in response. Bon's grip tightened.

"That's not our plan, is it, fellas?"

"You're in for some fun, Angus!" Phil said opening the door for the group. "Might as well enjoy it."

 

Malcolm hoped to God in Heaven his watch was running early. Returning from the dressing rooms he headed for the bathroom, taking his time. After all, he still had an hour and ten left. There were several guests when he came out, some standing and chatting with fellow relatives while some were stacking gifts on the table opposite the cake table. Angus wasn't any of the people he saw, despite his word to be the greeter when they arrived. Thinking he had tossed the idea over his shoulder, Malcolm stepped up to take his place. "Malcolm! Place sure looks good," his older brother said.

"It should, I helped put it together." The men laughed and shared a hug, George looking at the suit Malcolm was wearing.

"You have to get a custom one?" he whispered.

"No! Of course not, they had my size." George raised an eyebrow making Malcolm slouch. "Well, not exactly in men's, but..."

"Don't worry about it, it looks fine. I'm sure Angus' is even smaller," he laughed. He looked around the room. "Where is the man anyway?"

"He was on that chair when I left, maybe he went outside for some air."

"Nah, I was just out there. Unless he chose to get himself lost looking for another exit, he's not outside." George saw the color leave Malcolm's face. He put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Uh, George-when you came into the building, er-when you pulled up to the place, were there any other cars with you?" The older man laughed.

"Well, I should think so. This ain't a small family, ya' know. Why? Someone you know coming?" Malcolm pulled away and walked down to the hallway to find a water machine. George followed him.

"We may have invited a few extras," he said pulling out some spare change. The machine ate it up and gave him a water bottle. It wasn't cold enough and he made a face.

"What do you mean a few extras?"

"You didn't think your band was gonna be the only one..." George smiled.

"What, you think they took him?"

"I don't know, but I heard Bon and the boys the other day gigglin' like schoolgirls about somethin', I wonder if this is that somethin'."

"What time is the wedding?" George asked. "Left my watch at the house."

Malcolm raised the bottle to his lips again and glanced at his wrist. The water was spat back out into the bottle. "He's got an hour."

"They've got an hour," George corrected. "If they took him, it's their responsibility to bring him back. Did you hear what they were doing?"

"Not a clue, was too tired to care at the moment. Hey, you mind holding up the floor for me? I have to stay outside an' watch for them an' the whole family will be blockin' the doors." George gave his brother a mock salute.

"Sure thing, kid. Don't expect Bon to have Angus all in one piece when they get back. You know his idea of a good time," he grinned. Malcolm shook his head and headed to the main room and toward the front door. He was stopped by an older couple.

"Malcolm! How are you?" He was suddenly unable to breathe as his body was encircled in a tight hug.

"I'm okay-" he gasped, rocking from side to side in her grasp. "Mum, you're gonna have to let go-" he inhaled as the woman released her son and stepped back to look at him better.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mal. It's just been so long! How are you?" The young man took another bitter drink of his water and shrugged.

"I'm okay, I've jus' got a bit of work still left over outside-hey, Dad." His father stepped out beside his mother and shook his son's hand.

"Aw, to hell with it. Come here, son." Malcolm found himself in another hug, this one being a bit more comfortable. "Captain of the ship, eh?"

"Well, sorta. Put up some decorations an' all that, but Margaret has been helpin' some too."

"Is Hannah back there?" Mrs. Young asked pointing to where Malcolm had gestured.

"Yeah, she's with Marg gettin' dressed, well-Marg is already dressed, she's jus' helpin'." Mrs. Young let herself across the room toward the back dressing rooms and knocked on the door, accepted by who Malcolm assumed was his sister.

"Where's the man of the hour?" Mr. Young asked looking across the sea of family that was growing by the minute.

"Seems the band wanted a few words with him before standin' him up in front," Malcolm explained earning a frown in response. "They're taking him out for a bit."

"Like a bachelor party?"

"Guess so."

"They didn't plan one at least a week before the day?"

"Angus didn't have one. He at least didn't attend the one they gave him, he didn't want it. Left him alone for one minute, he was gone when I got back."

"Anybody see him leave?"

"Haven't asked, no one's said anything." Malcolm looked over his father's shoulder to see a man and Stevie, his nephew walking towards them. Mr. Young grinned widely and shook the man's hand.

"Been a long time, hasn't it, Will?"

"Too long, you know..."

"Seems the adults get along real great around here," Stevie said walking to stand next to Malcolm. Malcolm could guess Stevie wasn't too familiar with the man he was with a few seconds ago. He grinned.

"You some kind of child then?" he asked. Stevie frowned.

"No! Well, around here maybe. Treated like one at every family reunion and now with Uncle Ang gettin' hitched...he's not that much older than me an' he's still treated like he is." Malcolm laughed at his nephew's hardly even quarter life crisis. The younger man kicked the floor with his shoe. "He's smaller than me! And still treated better."

"He is not treated any better than you are, jus' different," Malcolm said. "Hey, I wouldn't mind bein' your age again, of course, you'd be even younger than you are now." Stevie glared at him. "Maybe you're jus' actin' like one."

He ruffled his hair and Stevie pulled away from him. "Quit it, Mal, I do not!"

"Oh yeah? Who around here's been treatin' you like a kid?" He balled his fists up. "Send 'em to me, I'll get 'em."

"Very funny," he sighed. "Saw your mum a couple minutes ago, she nearly killed me with those arms of hers. Gave me a big kiss on my forehead an' it won't come off." He reached a hand up to his head to scrub away a faded lipstick mark. It didn't work.

"She hugged me too. That's jus' her way! She's a hugger, always has been. Well, maybe not always." Resisting the urge to smirk at the younger man and his attempts to clean himself up he patted him on the shoulder. "I'm not around you too much so I guess I don't have a right to say. But I don't think you're a baby." Malcolm checked his watch and coughed. "Damn it, Ang..."

"What's wrong?" Malcolm put down his hand and headed towards the door, Stevie following right behind. "Mal? Where is Angus anyway?"

"Not here."

"What?"

"The boys took him out for a bit of fun an' there's hardly an hour left for them to get back." Dodging the incoming sea of family the two men made it outside into the sunshine, squinting to see the parking lot full of cars. None of them showed any signs of a rowdy band or a groom. "I'm supposed to be watchin' for him while George takes care of the guests..."

"Might be a while before he gets here," Stevie said. "I've met Bon once."

"Tell me about it." Still squinting through the mass of people he sighed. "I'll be havin' a word or two with 'em." Malcolm waved here and there to some of the guests exiting their cars and entering the church behind him. Stevie stood close to his uncle, still unfamiliar with many of the faces walking past him, and kept his head down. He looked up when Malcolm asked him a question. "Stevie? How would you like a job?"

"Huh?"

"A job, ya' know, one that'll get your status up as a real man." Putting a hand over his eyes to block the sun Malcolm turned to face him.

"What's the job?"

"Stay out here lookin' for Angus. If you see him, make sure he gets right inside the building and up at the front alter. We can't afford to waste anymore time an' he needs to be there before Hannah walks the aisle." Stevie kept his hands in his pockets and lowered his head again. "I've got to get inside an' check on Hannah. Mum's back there."

"What do I do with Bon an' the rest?"

"If they're drunk jus' knock 'em over like pins and bring Ang inside, we don't have time."

"What if Angus is drunk?"

"Then bring him to me so I can kill him an' bury him out back. You want the job or not?" His nephew giggled at his comment. "Come on, jus' stand here an' keep lookout. I don't think George brought enough topic cards to keep the family interested by himself, I gotta head back in. You alright out here?"

"It's kind of warm out here, isn't it, Unk?"

"Here." Malcolm handed over the water bottle. "Here's some water. See you in a few minutes." With that Malcolm had returned to the building and Stevie was left alone with his new position and a new drink. He unscrewed the cap and brought it to his lips. He made a face.

 

"Oh, you look just lovely dear," Mrs. Young gushed. "Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," Hannah replied from the chair as Margaret brushed her hair out with one hand, spraying it with the other. "But, I'm not even wearing the dress yet."

Margaret smiled to herself as she watched her mother look over at another chair, the dress hanging across it, and back again to the girl in her pink bathrobe. A smile appeared on all three of them as Mrs. Young waved her hands. "Nonetheless dear, you look wonderful. Great job, sweetie on her hair." Margaret straightened her posture. "I haven't seen you since you were a kid, livin' with us in Australia. You were so little-well, you're still rather little." Hannah blushed and lowered her head. Margaret raised it up again so she could work better. "The best of friends with my boys."

"Too bad I was out of the house by then, you could have had a girl to hang around with," Margaret said.

"Angus wouldn't have liked that," Mrs. Young smiled.

"Why not? Wanted her all to himself?"

"No, he didn't want any girls in the house, let alone one being his sister. I still remember the day they met you, Malcolm mentioned you. I don't think either one really liked you all that well."

"Oh they hated me," Hannah agreed. "I hated them right back. Well, Malcolm wasn't as much of a pain, but they were both so irresponsible! Slacking in school, fighting every two minutes-"

"Trust me dear, I know exactly what you're talking about. Throwing a party after I strictly told them no..." She sighed, shaking her head.

"I was sort of in on it too," Hannah muttered.

"Malcolm told me you were against it," she said. "Of course, he was protective of you and didn't like you getting into trouble."

"They had a party?" Margaret asked with a look of shock. Her mother nodded. "Those two? I don't believe it." Her mother kept nodding, Hannah joining in. "When?"

"Christmas. Or was it New Year?"

"New Year," Hannah said.

"That's right, 'cause your father and I were going on a trip and forgot sunscreen. Well, lost the bottle anyway. Found a whole school of children down in the old basement with Angus on the steps and Malcolm passed out on the couch..." Margaret set down the hairspray and continued to brush.

"How old were they?"

"About twelve...no, Angus was eleven, Malcolm was just about to turn fourteen. You were eleven too, Hannah?"

"Yeah. My mom wasn't happy with me when I got home."

"I bet not. How is your mother anyway, dear? She doing okay?" Hannah's pink cheeks darkened and she looked down at her hands, fiddling with her thumbs. It had been years since the two made contact. Hannah wasn't even sure her mother knew she wasn't living with Travis anymore. She hadn't picked up the phone.

Her attention was caught by Mrs. Young's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "She's not close," Hannah said, choking back any feelings. "Haven't really talked to her in..." She shrugged. "Don't really think she knows I'm getting married."

"She's not coming?" Margaret asked.

"No, I would be real surprised if she did. And with her cousin in jail now, there's not too much of my family left to come." Mrs. Young's mouth hung open and took a glance at her frowning daughter.

"You mean you haven't anyone coming to see you?" Hannah smiled, and tilted her head.

"I do have one person I've invited," she said, then shrugged. "But I don't know if she'll be able to come. She's a journalist see, with three kids. Only just heard from her a few weeks ago to tell me a fourth is on the way...can't see her making the trip, with it being such a last minute request."

"Who is it, dear?" Mrs. Young asked.

"You might remember Susan?" Hannah said. "Susan Lockhart?" A look of remembrance and shock grew upon the woman's face and she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"I do," she whispered. "I do remember her, the first girl my Angus ever set his eyes on and didn't look away from in disgust. This was of course, before he took his head out of the clouds and realized she wasn't looking at him."

"Were you two friends, Hannah?" Margaret asked putting the brush on the table and letting Hannah rise from the chair. The young woman took the opportunity and made her way outside of the bathroom to the wall, where her dress was hanging from a hook, still wrapped in plastic. She palmed it and made a face.

"Not at first, we didn't really talk until I was about to move back to America. We went to this school dance see, and there was some trouble she felt the need to apologize for. It really wasn't her fault, no. She shouldn't have." The plastic crinkled under her fingers, and she shivered as it was almost time to put the dress on. It wasn't big, just a normal white dress without sleeves. It had beading down at the bottom and a bit of 'sparkly things' as Mrs. Young put it, coating it. Hannah didn't want a train. She worried not only she would trip over it that the guests would too. The veil was simple as well, just a white one as usual. Margaret said it would allow her to style her hair a bit more without being too over the top. "We tried to keep in touch, but it didn't quite work."

"Yes it did," Mrs. Young beamed. "If she's phoned you up last week...to tell some very exciting news, it seems you two have kept up just fine, no matter how much time has gone by. Look at you and my boys. Several years spent apart, next thing I know one of them marries you!" The dress was released from her hand as Mrs. Young walked in her direction to hug her. "And we're all glad you came back home, dear. Was happy to know my boys made a friend at a new school. And such a nice one, too."

"Aw, I wasn't that nice," Hannah said waving her hand. "After all, I got in a fight with-" All three heads turned to the door, which was knocked upon rather loudly on the other side. Margaret rushed to open it as was her duty and saw Malcolm again, slightly out of breath.

"Mal?"

"Hi," he said looking over her shoulder. "Can I come in?"

"Hannah's about to put the dress on, you shouldn't be here!" He wormed his way in anyway.

"I'll take that up with the judge," he said. Putting a hand to his eyes he inched his way in, the other hand in front of him, feeling his way around. "Everyone decent in here?" Hannah walked up to him and took his hand away.

"Just in time, Mal. What do you need?"

"Had to tell you," he said quietly, keeping his head low. Hannah frowned, worried about anyone making that kind of face on this day. Margaret closed the door swiftly and joined them, their mother also nervous of his coming. All of them knowing there wasn't much time left, they urged Malcolm to get to the point. "There's someone missing from the program," he said. "Someone very important."

"Susan's not coming?" Hannah asked with sadness, but no surprise. Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head.

"You invited her? No-that's not it. I meant someone else, someone without whom the wedding isn't going to happen."

"You don't mean..." Margaret said. Malcolm nodded. Hannah closed her eyes.

"Angus..."

 

"Angus!"

He barely heard his name being shouted across the room as he was carried farther and farther away. More hands were in places they shouldn't have been and his jacket was completely hidden from his sight. So far his white shirt hadn't been splashed with any drinks below him, to which he would have been more thankful for if his feet had only been touching the ground. The sea of faces was blocked from his sight, the only thing he saw being the ceiling above him. A fan was whirring and Angus never thought he'd see the day where he was nervous about hitting his head, or getting his hair caught.

"Angus!"

The cheering for him was so loud he couldn't make out the voice shouting his name, nor was it getting any closer. Being dropped was also a concern of his, as he wasn't too sure how many people occupied the bar this time of day. Glasses clattered below him and he was certain one would go flying right over his shirt...

"Angus!"

The third shout was louder, and Angus soon realized it wasn't one voice shouting his name, it was two. Then three, then seven, then half the bar. Someone had begun a colossal cheer using his name, one he hadn't heard outside of a concert. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone standing on a table, stomping his boot to the top. The mess of hair on his head couldn't be mistaken for anyone else.

"Alright, everyone make some noise...for the groom of the afternoon!" The room was in chaos. "The evening!" More cheers. Angus felt lightheaded. "For the whole fuckin' night! If you know what I mean!" The loudest cheers he heard yet poured right into his eardrums. Bon continued to stamp his foot to the tabletop, wobbling a bit. Phil had taken up residence by the door, laughing his head off while Cliff was walking beside Angus, making sure he didn't fall. Angus couldn't see him of course and was still worried. "Let him know you're happy for him! Let him know you care! The luckiest man in sight-IS GETTIN' LUCKY TONIGHT!"

Looking at his watch was of no use. Seeing how little time he had left to get back would only make the blush on his cheeks worse. He knew about Hannah's feelings about that, but he hardly thought Bon ever found out. Then again, they were full of jokes tonight. The idea that the three were all still drunk was no less prominent in his mind. Actually, it grew.

"Let's get the little man goin' this way, bring him this way!" Angus changed directions in some people's arms and he was carried back over to where Phil stood. He could see Cliff now, following him on his left. Bon had jumped off the table and stretched his arms out at the end of the crowd, ready to help him to his feet. Finally he felt himself turn upright, dizzy when his feet touched the ground. An arm was around his shoulder. "Give him one more round!"

The bar went crazy with applause. Several more hands came and patted him on the back, one woman running up and kissing him on the cheek. Phil laughed even louder and Cliff came up to join. Bon grabbed Angus around his waist and held him with one arm.

"We're goin' to our next stop!" He stepped out the doors held open for him by Phil and soon all four of them left the bar, the sounds outside much quieter. Angus' ears were ringing. His head spun and his cheek was hot from when the woman kissed it. His attention was drawn to Bon as his screams filled his ringing ears.

"Wait," Angus said looking around. "My jacket...where's my jacket?" Cliff held up some fabric to his face.

"I got it, I picked it up when Bon threw it at those women." Bon threw his head back in laughter. "They weren't eager to give it up but I said it was for a very good cause."

"A very good cause," Bon sniggered. "This the car, Phil?"

"That's the one." They stopped in front of the rental car and opened the doors, Angus placed inside a second time, Bon climbing in after him. Phil took to the driver's seat while Cliff stole in beside him. Buckling themselves in, Phil started the car. "Where to?"

"First get out of here," Bon said cheekily. "Then drive down the street a ways till you get to the highway-"

"Highway?!" Angus interrupted.

"Yeah, an' then keep drivin' north a few miles, there's a joint up there I wanna stop at." Angus checked his watch. With forty minutes left until the wedding, and with a few miles away from the church, the chance of him being on time was growing slimmer. Immediately the car sped up and flew down the road, almost no other cars on the street.

"I've had enough, Bon, take me back," Angus said replacing his jacket over his shoulders.

"Day's not over yet, jus' one more stop!"

"I know this road, there's always a load of traffic comin' down from it, an' Mal used to threaten any passengers ridin' with him 'cause it pissed him off so much whenever he drove." Angus unconsciously bounced his leg again. The speed made his blood run hot.

"Mal's not as patient as Phil."

"Nor as fast," he agreed.

"This isn't your party, Bon, it's mine an' I say to take me back before it's three!"

"It's your wedding, Ang, you can be as late as you want!" Bon smiled. "Of course, then Hannah might get upset with you an' want to call the whole thing off..." Angus sighed and gripped the hook on the ceiling.

"No, she wouldn't do that. Don't even think she would be mad at me."

"Oh, so it's okay then. Phil, speed up!" Instantly the car sped up going a hundred. Angus would have been astounded at the lack of cars on the road but he had his eyes closed so he wouldn't get sick. An accident would slow them way down, or even get them killed. He began wondering and imagining what it would be like to have more normal friends, keeping his mind off the situation and how fast Phil was driving. "Any drinks on your shirt?"

Angus took his hand from his mouth, uttered a 'no', and quickly put it back again. Bon opened the window and let out a yell, Phil honking the horn despite the non existent traffic. 

 

The front doors to the church opened again with Malcolm walking as fast as he could outside to where he left his nephew on lookout. He found him with the water bottle in one hand, the cap between his lips, and one hand scrubbing his forehead. A little more water was poured into his palm and he began scrubbing again.

"Angus here yet?" The water bottle dropped to the ground, the water spilling out. Stevie turned around, seeing his uncle scanning the parking lot. "Didn't startle you, did I?"

"N-no," he said picking the bottle up. "No, jus' thought the bottle would look, ya' know, better on the ground is all."

"Uh huh, well when you see him, remember..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got the drill. Hey, Mal!" Malcolm stopped walking.

"Yeah?"

"We gonna let them know it'll be a bit late?" Stevie asked.

"Late?" Malcolm said. "This is not going to be late. It will be on time, just like we planned. Late," he spat to himself. "Not if I have anything to say about it!" He reentered the church and the doors slammed behind him. Stevie watched him, taking another drink. He didn't continue scrubbing.

"Malcolm!" The man was pulled aside by his father who had finished his conversation with the other man a few minutes ago. His brow was furrowed and he scanned the room as he brought his son to talk by the cake table. "People are crowdin' in, rows are full," he said placing his hands on his hips. Malcolm winced, waiting for him to finish. "Where's Ang?"

"Bon hasn't told me their exact plans, they could be on a plane to Vegas by now."

"Vegas?!" The two looked around as a sea of heads turned to face them, Mr. Young's voice echoing around the room. He leaned in closer and whispered. "If my son's in Vegas getting friendly with the neighbors, his goose is cooked."

"Dad, I was jokin'. I don't know where he is, but he's not goin' to Vegas. You know him, an' you've met Bon, he'd never do a thing like that." Mr. Young scoffed.

"Only 'cause he didn't think of it in time. There's thirty five minutes left, I don't want him showing up late-"

"This wedding will not be late!" Mr. Young took a step back to give his son space to throw his words. Malcolm composed himself and cleared his throat. "It's family, what are they gonna do, write us up in the complaint column of the paper?"

"You sure you have everything under control?" his father asked. "The bride isn't getting cold feet or anything?"

"Nah, she's just nervous. But not for long, as this day is gonna go exactly as we planned-" Malcolm backed up from his dad not looking where he was walking. "-jus' trust me!"

Mr. Young winced as his son fell to the floor after tripping. Tripping over a shoe actually. Malcolm sat up and brushed himself off, looking at a groaning Stevie underneath him. "What are you doin' in here, you're supposed to watch for Ang!"

"I was!" he yelled, sitting up with a hand on his head. "This woman came up to me and asked if she was in the right place. I told her I didn't know, I had never seen her before. She's certainly not one of us," he added. Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Anyway, she asked if I knew Angus and Hannah. I told her I knew Angus and that I had met Hannah, and she asked if they were getting married today. I told her, well, I'm not dressed up for nothin'." Malcolm didn't laugh along with his nephew.

"Will you get to the point?"

Stevie dropped the grin. "I said yes, and she said she was invited to come so I showed her in. You know, so she wouldn't think I was just some kid screwin' around out front?"

"I'm sure she knows what a door looks like, you could have just shown her the entrance," Malcolm said, crouching to look down at him. "Who was she?"

"She's standin' right here, you can ask her yourself," Stevie said pointing at a woman who was standing next to them. Malcolm glanced up, and immediately stood from the ground realizing how ridiculous he must have looked. On the way up his hand smacked Stevie on the shoulder, and cupping it, Stevie thought perhaps it wasn't an accident.

"God, I'm real sorry, my nephew was jus'-"

"We've met," the woman smiled, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure if you'll recognize me, but Hannah invited me to come. I thought, 'why not?'" Malcolm smiled and shook her hand, a look of realization dawning on his face.

"Susan? Susan Lockhart?"

"Hi, Malcolm," she smiled.

"I haven't seen you in ages-we haven't seen you," he said smiling once again. "My God, I hardly recognized you." Standing several inches taller than him, her shorter blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail while her red dress matched her red heels, making her even taller. Her stomach showed signs of a new member of her family on the way, and she had one hand on it, rubbing it slightly. "Since high school?"

"Seems so," she answered. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to keep up with you lot, I've been a bit busy with number four here, and one through three are home with Dad. I've had more than my hands full."

"Oh, it's no problem, they'll be glad to see you. I mean-I don't know if you an' Ang have settled your little..." He narrowed his eyes, wondering if the ice was solid enough to step on. Susan nodded much to his relief.

"We have. Long time ago, but I'm sure he remembers." Her gaze darkened. "I've been cursed to never forget." Malcolm coughed and looked down at his feet, Stevie still on the floor between them, staring at the pair.

"Oh, this is my nephew, Stevie," he said grabbing his arms and pulling him up. "He's supposed to be outside." He grit his teeth together and lightly pushed him in the direction of the doors. "Watchin' for Angus."

"Watching? Isn't he here?"

"Uh, there's been a slight setback but nothin' I can't handle. Hannah's in the back room if you want to see her, she should be gettin' the dress on any minute now." He pointed to where the back room was and she followed his finger.

"Oh, okay. If Angus comes back tell him I said hi," she smiled walking off toward the back of the room. Stevie watched her walk away then turned to his uncle.

"You know her?"

"Ang's crush way back in high. Got over her an' found someone else, an' it seems she has too," he said remembering her words. "Which is good, the guy she had been seein' was an abusive asshole who happened to be my friend growin' up. Then after years of pickin' on Ang I got sick of him and let him go, ya' know, through a good old fight." Stevie looked down at his shoes then back at the reminiscent smile on his uncle's face. "Wh-why am I tellin' you this? Get back outside an watch!"

Stevie was pushed again and Malcolm headed back to the front of the church where George was standing entertaining a crowd of distant relatives. Another man stood silently next to him, tall and blond hair. Malcolm recognized him instantly. "-who needs ya'?" George said to the crowd, who laughed heartily. "Oi, Mal. There you are, was afraid I'd lost ya' too."

"Sure didn't seem too concerned about it," Malcolm mumbled. He turned to the blond man next to him. "How've you been, Harry?"

"Just fine, Mal, thank you," he said with a grin. "George here says Angus has gone missing, is he gonna be here on time?"

Malcolm's heart raced as he saw a number of folks lift their heads at the Dutch man's words. Their eyes were narrowed and their lips were moving in hot gossip. Swallowing his own nerves he spoke. "Angus is not missing," he said. "We jus' don't know where he is at the moment."

"Sounds like he's missing to me."

"Well he's not!" More heads turned. Malcolm's face was red and George noticed.

"Well you'd better get him back here," someone in the group spoke up. "The chairs are filling up quicker than I've seen at one of your concerts. No offence." Malcolm had to take a deep breath while George thought of a joke to lighten everyone's mood but his brother's.

"Hope Bon didn't drop him off in the desert," he smiled, knowing Bon would never really. "He'd be dead before nightfall."

 

The sun beat hard upon his face, his eyelids stinging as he shut them as tight as he could. The ground was hot beneath him but it was the only thing that made the world cease to spin. A fly buzzed around his head ticking him off. Sweat formed through his shirt and on his face, and the strong desire to vomit slowly disappeared. He opened his eyes to see four men in front of him, standing around a motorcycle, a car a few feet away.

"This is the fastest one of the lot, with the best wheels. If you're lookin' to get somewhere early this won't help but if you want to be right on time-" He paused for effect. "-this'll do the trick."

"Speakin' of tricks," Bon said, looking down at it. "She do anything fancy?"

The man laughed. "Nothing a beginner couldn't do but she's flashy. The shine on her will distract any oncoming cars so you want to be careful, especially on a day like this. Where you fellas off to?"

"Friend's wedding," Bon muttered still looking at the bike.

"Oh, which friend?" Angus closed his eyes again, groaning on the ground. All heads turned to him. "Not that one, is it?"

"Afraid so. Our boy's growin' up." While Bon faked a sob the man selling the bike walked up to Angus and knelt over him, his shadow covering him up.

Angus' eyes fluttered. "Hmm. He ain't looking so hot. Hey, lad, you feeling okay?"

"Thirty minutes..." Turning around to see Bon still giving a good fake cry on Cliff's shoulder while Cliff rubbed a hand on his back, he looked back down at Angus.

"My son always asked for five, but since it's your wedding day, take all the time you need."

"No," Angus mumbled sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "No, there's thirty minutes left till...till..."

"I think he forgot," the man said. Angus put a hand to his mouth and swallowed, breathing heavily. The moment passed and he took his hand away. "Till I get..." His words slurred a little and the man leaned forward to hear him better.

"Murdered?"

"No! M-married," he repeated louder.

"Married!" Bon repeated, continuing his little sob show. Shaking his head, the man left Angus' side and he winced, the shadow leaving his eyes vulnerable again. The man returned to Bon who had pulled a tissue out of his pocket and wiped away any fake tears.

"So, we got a deal or what?"

"Deal," Bon said, completely normal, as if he hadn't just made a scene and shook the man's hand.

"I'll get you a little basket to put your groom in and a few helmets." The man turned to go back into his little shop when Bon called out to him.

"Hey, you got a rubbish bin around here?"

"Down by the fence, on the wall there's a recycle can. Don't make a mess of it, I just cleaned it up!" Hearing the words but not listening to them, Bon walked away from the bike down the dirt roadside and found the bin the man was talking about. Several tuna cans filled it to the brim and he grinned. He picked it up, making sure no cans fell out, and brought it to the group.

Angus was struggling to stand up. One hand on the back of the car, the other on his head he pulled himself off the ground and nearly fell into Phil who elbowed him away. Seeing only two Bons in front of him now setting down two recycling bins, he advanced forward. "What's all this?" he asked still feeling his head.

"Nothin' much, jus' a little decoration to get us in the mood for celebration." Bon picked up a few cans and grabbed some spare cables he found sitting at the bottom.

"That's gonna make a lot of noise."

"That's the plan, little man." Bon continued to string up the cans while the man returned from his shop pushing out a little sidecar of a bright and obvious bottle green color. Angus stumbled up to it.

"What's this?"

Bon looked up from his work. "You didn't think you'd be riding with Cliff an' Phil, hidin' from sight!" he said. Angus turned to look at him and frowned.

"No way in hell am I stepping one foot in that thing!"

"We haven't all the time in the world, Ang, an' you don't have much choice."

"I most certainly do. Bon? I will not ride in that wagon of yours, and you will take me back to the church right now, where I can lose my head before it's time an' get all my nerves out." He crossed his arms and nearly stood on his toes, raising his voice. Bon only raised an eyebrow.

"We're takin' you back anyway, Angus, you might as well look good when you get there," Phil said as Bon smiled.

"Exactly right, Rudd. Ain't nothin' wrong with arrivin' in a bit of style. And don't worry, Ang, I'm driving this time, so you'll be much safer with me."He ignored the glare from Phil and waited for Angus' reaction.

"You'd look real snazzy in this," said the man who pushed it out. "It's just your size."

"Yeah, one of those doll cars in the toy store," Cliff muttered, laughing. Angus balled his hands and stamped his foot.

"Shut up!"

"Alright, alright, enough pokin' fun on a man on his big day, we'll jus' take the car home an' Angus can show up like any other man on his day. Boring," Bon said stepping back from his work. Phil and Cliff joined in, the man selling the bike looking confused.

"I'll jus' watch out for traffic on the way back an' pray we make it back on time," Phil mumbled kicking the dirt sending up a cloud of dust. "Maybe take the slow lane home. You okay with that, Angus?" A look of satisfaction on his face, Angus stood up straighter.

"Yes I am." He began walking toward the car.

A voice behind him hit his ears. "We'll we're not."

Before he knew it he was grabbed again and stuffed in the sidecar which was now being attached to the motorcycle. A helmet hit his head, then was fitted on top, Bon snapping the buckle under his chin. Angus stood to get out but Bon held him there. Out of the corner of his eye Angus could see some exchange of money and hear some exchange of words but he was too interested in what Phil and Cliff were doing. Both of them had taken to the front seats in the car and closed their doors, both of their windows rolling down. He raised a finger. "What are they doin'?"

"You don't think I can carry all you elephants on this thing," Bon scoffed. "They're takin' the car an' drivin' beside us."

"No they're not-" Angus was pushed down again by Bon, who had straddled the motorcycle and put on his own helmet. It was taken off as he remembered-

"Oh, yeah!" He got back off and grabbed the pile of cans and cables and hooked them all around the sidecar Angus was in. Nodding in approval, he returned to sit on the bike.

"Won't they fall off?" Angus asked.

"Good point, hang on to them for me, will ya'?" Bon started the bike up, smiling at how loud it was. Phil must have started the car because the volume increased instantly. Angus instinctively grabbed the sides and made sure his helmet was tight enough. He grabbed his tie too, to make sure it wouldn't fly away in the wind. Slowly the bike moved forward, Bon steering toward the road where Phil had already taken the car on one side of the street. He'd have to make sure there were no cars coming in their direction, which shouldn't be hard as somehow no other cars seemed to be on the street that day. Angus grabbed the car till his fingers turned chalk white. It was speeding up quicker than he realized and Phil drove the car next to them at the same speed, once in a while slowing down or speeding up to keep them at heads. Angus wanted to cover his ears at the sound of both engines and the cans clanking behind him alerting anything within a mile radius of his arrival, which must have been Bon's plan. Phil honked the horn while Bon yelled to the sky, all of them clearly enjoying themselves. Angus would have enjoyed himself, if there had been more than twenty minutes to travel a few miles south to a church where he was getting married...his heart began racing for several reasons now and the cans behind him were not helping. He could have sworn one of the cans had detached and rolled down the road behind them but he didn't dare turn around unless he wanted his breakfast covering the highway as well.

"Hey, Bon!" Phil yelled from his open window to the right of the bike. Bon swerved the bike to ride closer so he could hear better. Angus leaned away from the side of the car. "Are we takin' thirty three?"

"Whichever gets us there quickest!" Bon yelled back. Angus silently agreed. "Ridin' with this attached drags a bit,I want him off!" Phil laughed and looked at Angus through his mirror.

"Havin' fun back there?" Angus shouted something Phil couldn't hear so he ignored him, honking the horn again. Angus felt his insides turning again and not just from nerves. Scenery flew past as they sped along, Angus only looking away to check his watch. One can flew up into the sidecar and hit him in the face, taking his attention and giving it to the road exclusively. 

 

"Now who is it?" Margaret asked setting the dress back on the hook on the wall as she went to open the door. Hannah wrapped the cord around her bathrobe again, not wanting to be changing when they had a visitor. "This had better be good, Mal, we're on a tight schedule enough without our brother off on an adventure-oh!" Margaret stared open mouthed at a woman she had never seen before, who was smiling back at her nervously.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for Hannah-"

"You know Hannah?"

"In a way, yeah," the woman answered. Grabbing her wrist Margaret shut the door after them and dragged her to where Hannah stood. Mrs. Young moved aside to give room for her rushing daughter.

"Susan?" Hannah said seeing the blonde woman.

"Hi," she mumbled.

"You came? You actually came?"

"Why so surprised?"

"I just thought-I don't know, I thought you'd be too busy and with the new baby on the way-"

"I'm not missing the wedding of the first one at school to accept me despite who I hung around with and to forgive me for what I'd done," Susan said rushing to give Hannah a hug.

"Like I said, there was nothing to forgive." They separated and Hannah looked her over, Susan doing the same. "You look great!"

"So do you, but I'm sure the dress will look better." Susan smiled at her making Hannah look away in embarrassment. "I knew...I knew from the day of the dance...it was only a matter of time."

"Moving didn't help," Hannah muttered.

"No, but it obviously didn't hinder either."

"So...how have you been? Four kids?" Hannah asked. "Oh, I mean-"

"It's fine," Susan laughed. "They're perfect little monsters, staying at home with their dad until I can get back. Two older boys with a little girl, and then this one." She put a hand to her stomach. "Not sure what it is yet, but I'm hoping for another girl."

"Who's their dad?" Hannah asked. "Gee, I'm sorry. I meant to say-"

"It's fine! It's fine, I'm not ashamed to talk about my husband. He's a doctor you know," she smiled smugly. "Name's Victor Krauss. A much higher step up from Johnny, I will say."

"Was he that boy my sons always got into rows with?" Mrs. Young asked her. Susan and Hannah both nodded. "Don't know why they didn't just ignore him."

"He provoked them, ma'am, he got what he deserved," Susan defended. "I didn't see it before but...anyway, I wanted to see you and how you were doing. I saw Malcolm outside and he's sure grown some, hasn't he?"

"A very handsome man," Mrs. Young beamed.

"I haven't seen Angus in so long..." A smirk played at her lips. "I wonder what he'll think when he sees we're both friends."

"I wonder..." Hannah put a hand to her lips. "I wonder what he'll think when he sees you up at the alter..."

"Hmm?"

"If you happened to be my maid of honor..." Susan raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have one?"

"I do now-if you want to," Hannah said. Susan grinned and shrugged, thinking it over.

"I would love to! But, this is all very last minute, isn't it?"

"In more ways than one," Margaret huffed. Susan stepped back.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry, I'll let you get dressed-"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, you're fine!" Margaret assured her. "There's just a couple of brothers of mine that don't seem to value punctuality as much as the rest of us. I swear, this wedding is going to be late."

 

In a small crowd of relatives finding their way to their seats, one man stuck his head out over them to see. Still no sign of his younger brother, he found his older one instead who was talking with Harry about AC/DC's next album. Malcolm wormed his way over to the pair and tapped on George's shoulder five times, eventually smacking his arm to get his attention. "Ow! What?"

"You see the boys anywhere?" he asked doubting he had, but had to make sure.

"No, I imagine they're still not back yet." George checked his watch. "'Bout ten minutes left, they've got. Hey, you okay?" Malcolm had taken to searching the room again with a frown.

"Did you hear somethin'?" he asked.

"It's a crowded hall, Mal."

"No, I mean-it's the strangest thing. Could have sworn... I feel somethin', ya know-like, a doubt or somethin'." George looked at his brother like he was nuts.

"Oh, well, Angus will be back any minute now. Granted Bon should really check with someone first before doing somethin' like this..." he muttered to himself. "The fuckin'...where are you goin'?" Not only was Malcolm running toward the door, but a few of the seated guests had gotten up from their chairs and rushed to the exit, the small man worming his way past them to get outside.

"Mal! Uncle Mal, he's back! They're all back-" Stevie had run inside to tell his uncle the news when the crowd of people running in the opposite direction had practically picked him up and took him outside again. "Mal, he's back!"

Stevie's voice was lost over the commotion and Malcolm finally made it back outside. Flying down the road came a motorcycle and a car right beside it, easing their way into the parking lot. The noise of the crowd cheering at the sight of the arrival mixed with the clanking of the cans, the roar of the engines and the honking of the horn was almost deafening. A few cans had fallen off the bike and strayed in the road, one man volunteering to run out and pick them up. The car was parked and Phil and Cliff stepped out, scanning the crowd. Bon took off his helmet and threw it out to the crowd for someone to catch, a group of young men all handling a space of it. Angus, with shaky legs, worked his way out of the sidecar and almost threw his helmet off, it landing with a thud in the bottom of the basket. Bon picked Angus up again like he did at the bar and Phil and Cliff followed them toward the church. Angus didn't struggle this time, he was too tired.

"Hey, Mal," Bon said. "Funny seein' you here."

"Where the hell have you all been? Is Angus alright?" Malcolm moved the hair away from Angus' face and he just groaned. "You didn't get him drunk, did you?"

"No, of course not," Bon said staring back into Malcolm's vengeful eyes. "What kind of inconsiderate folks do you think we are?"

"Uncle!" Stevie yelled finally getting past the throng. "Mal, he's back, he's-he's right there!" Stevie saw his other uncle in Bon's hold, looking absolutely shot. "What happened to him?"

"Not the time to explain, we gotta get him inside."

"Hey Mal, we're not late are we?" Cliff asked.

"No, but you're lucky. With eight minutes left, I don't see how you all managed to-"

"Aw, come off it, Grandpa, we took a few detours is all. Drove the fast lane. Had a great time, and you know what? Made quite an entrance," Bon said with a grin.

"Made quite a spectacle," George said, stopping Malcolm from taking a swing at the man still holding Angus. He fought his way through the crowd as well and reached them panting. "This what you do, Bon? Take grooms away from churches an' turn 'em into gremlins?"

"Not makin' a business of it, Young, jus' help me get your brother in there." George and Malcolm both grabbed a piece of Angus and carried him through the receding mass of people who were all returning to their seats. Stevie followed them, sticking close to the taller men hoping not to get lost in the crowd. Angus had regained some of his senses and peeled open his eyes, mumbling a few words here and there. "Almost there, Ang."

"A few more minutes, Ang. Then you'll be married," Malcolm said. Angus wasn't sure if that was supposed to calm him down or not.

Just when they thought the noise couldn't get any louder, the bells in the tower of the church began to ring. Out of the sun and into the building, the chairs were filled up again. About half of them were empty, but the empty spaces were peppered around. The Young family had decided not to pick one side over the other. It would look too sad on such a happy day. Bon walked up the aisle and stood Angus up at the front, fixing his tie for him. Angus fell into him for a second but Bon re-positioned him and he stood on his own. There were a few seats in the third row not taken by family, and the boys headed over there to sit.

It was empty at the alter. One woman sat at a piano and another woman stood across from Angus, holding a small bouquet of roses red and white. Blinking he could make out her face and almost fell over again. While her hair was slightly shorter and her height slightly taller he knew her face from a mile away. He would have whispered a greeting to her to make sure but the woman at the piano began to play, and the room grew quiet.

Margaret came out of a back room with a basket in her hand, clutching some white petals and tossing them to the floor. Mrs. Young smiled from her seat in the front row, next to her husband, both giving their daughter a loving thumbs up. They must have figured their son made it back in one piece. She waved and walked up to the front of the room, setting the basket down, the aisle now covered in white petals. She stood beside George and Malcolm, who were up behind Angus. Stevie hadn't intended on standing up there too, but Malcolm asked him, and Angus was in no mood to object. "Well done, Mal," she whispered into her brother's ear giving him a hug.

"Don't thank me. But see? Didn't I tell you we were going to be fine?" Margaret stuck her tongue out at him and hugged George next. Stevie got a hug too, happy that he had done his job and got to be part of the event, and glad he got out of talking to a bunch of people, whether he knew them or not. Margaret left to stand next to Susan and the piano song continued its next verse.

Hannah walked out of the back room toward the aisle, finally wearing the white dress. Her veil covered her face and sat neatly in her hair. A trim of red roses around a cluster of white was in her hands. Her shoes were very out of place; at her request she had insisted on wearing a pair of sneakers instead of dress shoes. Not being able to find a white pair that matched the shade of the dress, she settled for black. And she loved them.

Closer and closer to the alter she walked. Angus opened his eyes wider still, not sure if what he was seeing was real. He looked around the audience to check if it was his family sitting in the chairs, to check if he had made it to the right wedding. The lightheaded feeling returned only this one put a smile on his face and a boost in his heart rate. If he thought his speech was slurred after riding the car and motorcycle at top speed he couldn't utter a sound now. Only a small cough. She arrived at the steps and started up, watching where she put her feet. Angus didn't know what caused it, but he couldn't stand still and slowly walked down the steps to meet her there. His feet also happened to not be connected to his brain and he tripped, stretching his arms out to break his fall.

His arms landed around her neck, hers catching him by the waist. And there she was right in front of him. Hazel eyes staring right into his, lashes fluttering on her pink cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, and he thought the music stopped, but he still couldn't get a word out. She smiled at him, and Angus was sure his heart had stopped. "Glad you could make it."

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't give a witty answer. He thought up plenty, but they wouldn't leave his lips. They only turned upward into a smile. Deciding he had waited long enough and knowing for sure that the music had stopped leaving everyone in silence, he settled with a, "Hi."


	3. Chapter Three

The smile he gave when his lips caught hers was genuine. Cheering erupted from all sides of the room but it was ambiance to him. Her veil was released from his fingertips and he palmed her hair instead. It was as if he hadn't had the opportunity in so long, and as if it was his last chance. He still couldn't feel his heart beating but he was okay with it. If he could, it might have distracted him.

The hug they shared after lasted even longer. Her nose found its way to his neck and she nuzzled into him, turning his red face darker. Stroking her hair he leaned in closer and whispered. "I love you, ya' know."

"I love you too. Really though, thanks for coming. I heard you went out on a trip before the show," she answered smiling.

"What was your first guess, the cans on the bike or Malcolm's inevitable concern?"

"His warranted concern you mean," she corrected. "You're nuts."

"Always will be," he said. "What, you think I'd miss seein' you walk down? An' miss your lovely face?"

"You're nuts," she repeated giving him another hug. He eagerly returned it, picking her up off the floor. The cheering hadn't let up, it only grew. Finally the pair separated and walked down the steps of the alter, hand in hand. Angus rubbed his thumb over her ring. The ring he gave her. Not the promise ring she wore the previous year while living with a criminal, this time it was a real ring. And it was him who gave it to her. He held her hand up and kissed it as they reached the doors and together they pushed them open, sunshine hitting their faces. 

Euphoria like none he had felt that day made his veins swell, adding to the various other emotions given him. A couple various attenders with closed fists left the church early, suddenly throwing their hands up, dousing the couple with a white rain. Floods of guests followed them through the front doors, a few stopping to shake Angus' hand or give Hannah a hug before walking past them to find their cars. 

"What did we tell ya'?" Angus turned around to see Bon right behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. A glass of whiskey was already in his hand, despite the reception being held somewhere else. He took a drink then raised his glass and eyebrows. "'Ello, little lady, fine day, eh?" Before Hannah could answer, the remaining crowd had parted like the Red Sea, allowing for some very quick footsteps, and very loud swear words, to pass through. 

"-ya' fuckin' could have missed it, fuckin' takin' him along on your silly little trip-" At that moment the swearing increased as the man tripped over his own shoes trying to get through the crowd. Bon laughed behind his hand. "-ya' fuckin' buggers!"

"Mal! Glad you could catch the show, ya' saw it didn't ya'?" Malcolm sighed.

"Yes, I fuckin' saw it. But-"

Grabbing him with his other arm, Bon held the two brothers like they were his own siblings. "Took a bit longer than I thought, but I managed to pay attention." Bon laughed when Malcolm pushed himself out of his grip. "Almost had front row!"

"What are ya' thinkin'?" he asked. "Did you forget your brain on the nightstand this mornin' or did your woman last night trade ya' for her knackers?"

"Come on, Mal-"

"Fuckin' startin' in three minutes, Angus nowhere in the building..." Phil came up behind Malcolm giving Bon a mischievous grin, amused by Malcolm's annoyance. "George is no help, I had Stevie keep watch for you-"

"And a lovely job he did, right Phil?" Malcolm turned in surprise to see Phil, but his temper didn't falter. 

"An' you, were you drivin'?"

"As quick as I could go," he answered. Angus turned a little green at the memory. A few more people walked around the scene to get to their cars, one of which being George. He clapped a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. 

"I'm gonna get goin', eh, Mal?" He reached Angus before Malcolm could take his anger out on him next. "Ang! Come get your congrats before Mal skins us both." Angus gave George a hug, watching Malcolm light into Phil over his shoulder. When they separated George pointed at him. "Mal's right, ya' know. Takin' a car to the fuckin' moon on your weddin' day is a bad idea."

"Bon didn't give me a choice," Angus insisted. "You should have seen 'em, George, all three of 'em grabbed me an' shoved me in the car."

"You didn't ask for help?"

"Someone had a hand on my mouth!" George shook his head, apparently laughing at the face Bon made behind Angus. Hannah stood aside to let George leave but he took her in for a hug instead. 

"Welcome to the family then, Hannah. Took him long enough, eh?" Hannah gave Angus a cheeky grin when he sighed. 

"Part of it was my fault," Hannah admitted. "And it's better than a one second romance, right?"

"If ya' say so. Take care of him will ya'? He needs a bit of a kick in the pants every now an' then an' I got to get back home after all this, so while Mal an' I aren't there to get his gears checked-" George pushed Angus back with one hand as Angus' temper was rising with every word that came out of his mouth. Continuing his thought as if Angus wasn't there, George went on, "-maybe you could be the one to do it?" Hannah saluted him.

"I shall strive to be worthy of my post," she said. George grinned and made his way down the church steps, but not before messing up Angus' hair. Angus raised a hand to punch him but Bon picked the little man up by the shoulders and stood him a few feet away from some close proximity guests. 

"Quit makin' a scene of yourself, you look ridiculous," he said finishing off the last of his drink. 

"I'm not the one humiliating myself, George an' Mal are the loud asses-"

"Who's tryin' to humiliate you?" Bon asked. "Who's carin' about a few teases here an' there, certainly not any of us, we already know you're the baby. Your family? They're your family for Chrissakes, Angus. Hannah?" Angus turned to where Bon's finger pointed and saw she had been taken aside by a few distant family members to talk. "You think she's laughin' at you? If yeah then wait til' tonight."

"Bug off, Bon," Angus said, his whole demeanor much calmer than it had been. "A step at a time if you please."

"Angus!" Guests were stepping back and forth getting out of the way of the determined woman breaking out of the church. Bon also saw this new woman and raised his eyebrows at the shorter man. 

"Susan?" Susan caught up with him, the biggest smile on her face he'd seen since...he couldn't remember a time she'd looked so happy. He couldn't remember a time when she'd been so tall either...and so-so-

"It's so good to see you!" she cried pulling him in for a hug. Angus was knocked back by the hug, but the surprise didn't keep him from reciprocating it. 

"It's good to see you too," he admitted. Bon stepped around the two to stand behind Susan and give Angus a grin. After a full minute, Susan pulled away first and looked him over. 

"You haven't changed a bit," she beamed. Angus returned the inspection. 

"I'd say the same but-" His words choked themselves while Susan laughed at his hesitance to point out the obvious. 

"It's okay, Angus, I know more than anyone that I'm pregnant," she said taking his hands in hers and swinging them lightly. "I've guessed the same the first three times, I can't be wrong a fourth."

Angus' eyes widened. "Four?I mean-that's great! I just-didn't expect-" He swallowed. "To see you here, ya' know."

"I didn't expect to be invited, let alone the maid of honor." She laughed for a moment at the circumstance, Angus smiling politely. "Of course, it's no surprise you're the groom."

"'Bout time, eh?" Angus looked over his shoulder to see if his wife hadn't been kidnapped as well. Only by Margaret and his mother, and she didn't look too upset about it. Susan fiddled with her thumbs to pass the awkward seconds and Angus pinched himself for being so rude. "So, are-are you married now?"

"He's a doctor," Susan smiled. "Victor Krauss by name, you-probably won't have heard of him."

"He a gynecologist?" Angus laughed to himself. "Might have seen him. In the streets ya' know."

"Cardiologist actually," Susan said. "He took some time off work to sit the kids." 

"You say you have-four of 'em?" Susan nodded and Angus rocked on his feet. "That's-that's impressive."

"Thank you. Are you planning on...?"

"Uh, well-" Angus could have sworn he turned redder than the woman's dress."We haven't-we haven't really decided on-that yet..." Angus grabbed his tie and loosened it a little. "I mean-we already have a rabbit an' Hannah-she likes rabbits ya' know. An' she's got this thing goin' on, an' we haven't exactly-"

"Oh, I see," Susan stopped him. "Just a...wait and see kind of thing, am I right?" Angus tilted his head back and forth.

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

Susan looked up from her shoes into Angus' eyes. It'd been so long since she'd seen them. And Angus was sure he'd never see Susan again ever since he quit school. Ever since he ran away to Hannah's house to tell her how he felt...He shook his head to rid himself of that memory, instead thinking about today. The party that afternoon and the long night of sleep he was really looking forward to. A kiss on the cheek brought him back down to Earth to see a smiling Susan. "It's been great to see you again, Ang," she said looking down at him. "I didn't expect to see you again much, let alone invited to your wedding."

"It's the same here, I thought-" He shook his head. "Nothin'. Nothin'. Uh, Hannah invite you? I saw you up in front."

"Yeah, I got here pretty late."

"You wanna talk late?" They shared a laugh and Susan continued.

"I hope it's okay that I came, I-truth be told I wanted to see Hannah again. We weren't exactly enemies you know." Angus waited for her to finish her thought. "And-of course I wanted to see you again." Angus grinned. 

"I'm glad you came, ya' know, any guest of Hannah's is a guest of mine. You comin' to the reception?"

"If you'll have me." 

"Sure! If Hannah's asked you to come I'm sure she doesn't want you left out...hmm...guess Mum doesn't mind if she misses it though..." Angus turned around to see Hannah nowhere in sight. The throng of people had thinned out and the parked cars were becoming fewer and fewer. Bon had disappeared from behind Susan and Malcolm might as well have killed Cliff and Phil as the three were also gone. Stevie was getting a hug from another distant relative, the sun hitting the lipstick on his forehead just right. "I'll see you there, yeah? For dancin' you know, I'm sure Mal wouldn't mind a few steps with you."

"Goodbye, Angus," she laughed. Angus politely kissed her hand then continued his way down the steps. He rounded the corner of the church when an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Angie, lad, you never told me about her," Bon grinned looking back at Susan. "A lovely blonde like that? What happened?"

"Easy, Bon. I fell in love with someone else, that's all there is to it."

"You mean to tell me you never fell in love with her?" The two squeezed through a small gathering still keeping an eye out for Hannah. "A crush, somethin'?"

"A crush, an' that was it. After pullin' my head outta my ass I realized I was-" Angus laughed. "In love with my best friend, can you believe that? Biggest movie moment of my life, ya' know?"

Bon smiled. "I believe ya', I believe ya'. Where is the little lady anyway?"

"That's what I'm tryin' to figure out." A faint, smooth laughter erupted a few meters away getting their attention. Shouts of protest came from the same direction, where Hannah was a good five feet off the ground, praying Phil's arms wouldn't give out. Malcolm stood to the side, the knot in his boxers seemingly a bit looser as he smiled for the first time in hours. Cliff found himself a drink while he watched Phil lift Hannah as high as he could before lowering her, then lifting her again. Bon ditched Angus to run up to the group, his arms out like it was a big game. Catching on, Phil swung Hannah in his direction, holding on just enough to scare her. With Malcolm next to him, he made sure not to drop her. 

"C'mon, Phil, toss her! Toss her!"

"Do not toss her!" Hannah yelled back. Before Phil could try, however, Angus ran up and took her. 

"I've gotcha, I've gotcha." Phil practically dropped her in his arms, Angus then lifting her over his shoulder, restraining her kicking feet. He laughed as her fists lightly pounded his back. "Hey, thanks for the massage."

"We all takin' the same car?" Malcolm asked. The group walked towards the parking lot, waving to the remaining guests who finally decided to get the day going. A bit of traffic filled up the lot, slowly diminishing car by car. Bon kicked a rock on the grass in his direction and the two started a soccer game. 

"Nah, I'll take the bike. Ang, you can ride with me again if ya' want."

"I'm not steppin' anywhere near that thing," Angus said, adjusting Hannah. "I think I'll take the car this time, have a nice slow trip with this lovely lady here."

"You didn't ask her about it," Bon said. "You wanna ride in the boring car, Hannah? Or would you rather ride with me?"

"No thank you, Ronald," Hannah said, crossing her arms. "I don't mind riding in the car but I hope the view is nicer than the one I've got now."

"Oi, knock that off," Angus said tickling her side. "I've said it before, my arse is better than my face, you're lucky down there."

"I wanna ride in the side car," Phil said raising his hand. 

"With me?" Bon asked. When Phil nodded Bon kicked the rock in Malcolm's direction and took off. "Race ya' there!" 

With those two running for their lives, or for the last beer at the hotel, Cliff walked up beside Angus and took a drink. "I'll ride with you three, don't want to share a bike an' the side car barely fits one as it is."

"Alright, Cliff, you can ride with us. I'll drive, that alright?" Malcolm asked. No one objected. 

Upon reaching the car Cliff frowned when he saw a small white smear on his window. "Shit, why?" he asked. "Rudd parks in the one spot left, tons of other cars around an' this is the one that gets shit on it?" Malcolm opened the driver's door and let himself in. 

"You rent this thing?"

"And the bike," Cliff answered sitting down. "We'll have to take that back later, if those two don't trash it beforehand."

Angus finally set Hannah down and opened the door for her. When all four were comfortable inside, Malcolm set about looking around the controls. "Ain't this jus' a dinosaur," Malcolm said. 

"It's not that old, I drove a car like this when I was younger, it was much older than this," Cliff defended. With a shrug Malcolm put the car in gear and backed out. "You can try the radio if ya' want."

"Nah, it'll jus' distract me. Ang? Where is this joint?" Angus let his seat belt go and sat on the edge of the cushion. 

"It's down three blocks on East," he answered. 

"This place big?" Cliff asked.

"Big enough. The family rented it, Dad nearly spent a whole couple thousand on it, 'member?"

"Yes, I remember," Angus sighed settling back down in his seat. "Told me about it nearly a thousand times before the wedding." Letting Malcolm get out of the lot before navigating, he turned to his friend seated next to him. "And you," he said taking her hand. "How're you feelin'?"

"Much better," she answered leaning into him. "Good to be right side up again."

"You know what I meant," he said tickling her side again. "You glad it's all over?"

"The ceremony, yes. The whole wedding? Well I wouldn't mind eating a bit of cake in a little while."

"I'm glad it's over," he said closing his eyes. "Fuckin' nearly threw up. 'Course, I wouldn't aim for you, sweetheart." She took her turn to tickle the back of his neck. "Don't regret a second of it. You alright up there, Mal?" 

"Doin' fine, doin' jus'..." Malcolm narrowed his eyes and lightly pressed his foot to the gas pedal. "Christ, there they are."

"Hmm?" Malcolm pointed out the front window where Cliff saw them next. He smiled and shook his head, taking a nice long drink to finish the bottle off. Waving his hand, and attempting to stand up, Phil grabbed a can he found in the bottom of the side car and placed it on his head. Bon revved the motor and sped up, slightly swerving as best as he could with an attachment to show off. 

"I think Bon's got his helmet on backwards."

"Maybe it's his head," Angus suggested.

 

More rice flew in every direction as soon as the doors opened. Tables were saved by various hats and purses while a multitude of cheering stood by the entrance. Malcolm walked through it first, driving a path through it for the second time that day, only with a lot less swearing. Angus led Hannah through next with Cliff behind, all four looking out for Bon and Phil. 

"Mal, oi!" George and Harry pulled Malcolm out of the throng, Harry then escorting the other three out as well. "There you are, 'fraid you lost the place."

"Twice," Angus said. Resisting the urge to punch his brother on his big day, Malcolm instead grabbed his unoccupied hand and squeezed rather hard.

"I just missed a few turns is all. We're here now, an' that's that." Angus pulled his hand away and gave him a rotten look. "Where's Mum an' Dad?"

"Table in the front there, we saved it for them. C'mon, you can sit with 'em." George and Harry led Angus and Hannah in the direction of the spoken table but Malcolm pulled them back. 

"Wait, wait, where're you two sittin'?" George pointed in a different direction. 

"With the rest of the band, see? Groom gets to sit with his mum," he said grinning at Angus. "Here we go, love." He took Hannah by the hand and led her to the table with two adults chatting happily to themselves, smiling when they saw their new company. "Found 'em, Mum."

"Thank you, George. Hannah! Come here, let me see you!" Despite being in the dressing room for a good portion of their morning, Mrs. Young stood up from the table and placed her hands on Hannah's shoulders looking her over. She had removed the veil leaving it in the backseat of the car, her bouquet sitting next to it. Hannah fluffed the dress out a little, returning it to its shape after sitting in a small car. "You look lovely, dear, doesn't she look lovely, Angus?"

"T's what I told her," he said grinning at them both. "Yes, yes she's very lovely."

"You could have been too, if ya' wore a dress," George said messing up Angus' already messy hair. "Mal an' I offered..."

"Go play patty cake with Stevie an' friends, if Stevie even made it, we've got a reception to host." Angus ushered his brother and Harry away from the table and pulled out a chair for Hannah. Malcolm pulled an empty chair from another table over to sit next to Angus.

"Ang," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"How long we got this place for? How long are we stayin"?"

"Eager to leave, are you?" Angus asked checking his watch. "We got until eight, then we're goin' to the motel."

"How're you gettin' there? Oh, hello," he said as someone sat at the table he took the chair from. "Someone drivin' you?"

"Is the band all goin' home?" Angus asked. 

"Two aren't even here, an' they rented your car," Malcolm said. "Expectin' one of us to drop you off?"

"Wouldn't kill ya'." Angus absentmindedly placed his hand atop Hannah's, brushing her fingers with his thumb. "No other cars here."

"Ya' got a whole family o' cars here, anyone would be happy to take ya'." Malcolm sighed at the unusually long lashes Angus batted at him. Patting him on the cheek and taking a sip of Angus' water, Malcolm stood up. "Alright, either Bon or I will take ya', if Bon doesn't come back, or if he comes back pissed-or fast flyin' Phil can take ya'."

Angus paled at the thought. "You can take me."

"Of course, if I don't get pissed myself. Cliff was drinkin' this afternoon, you might not want him. Well, I'm off. Have fun openin' gifts, Ang."

Malcolm left the table, greeting a few more relatives , and ended up talking to his sister. The whole place was abuzz with action, talking, and laughing. The cake had been moved from the church to stand on a table in the back, with the presents surrounding it. A live band had been considered for the event, but with most of the money being spent on a venue, the idea was dropped. Instead a record player standing by a pile of speakers was enough to keep the guests entertained. George offered to play with his band but Angus wouldn't hear it. He couldn't have his brother work on his day off, not to mention they didn't have a lead singer with them. Angus couldn't help but notice Stevie's absence. It didn't surprise him. Besides, he liked the setup. It reminded him of that school dance, so many years ago...

The front doors flew open, with Bon and Phil stumbling in. Bon's hair was crazier than normal with the helmet under his arm, and a bottle in the other hand. He grinned upon seeing the bassist run up to meet them. "Oh, Cliff," he hiccuped. "Hold this, would ya'?"

The helmet was dropped in Cliff's arms, who set it on a spare table. "Where did you two go?" he asked helping the two find a place to sit. Phil, apart from feeling high on adventure, was capable of standing on his own. 

"Cliff, there's a whole boulevard loaded with women down the road," Bon said grinning into his bottle. He liked the sound his breath made when he spoke into it, so he continued a few more times. Cliff reached to take it before Bon pulled it away. "Ones that love motorcycles, ya' know. Hey. That's mine," he said. 

"Just drove by them," Phil said. "There were two at the most."

"Millions," Bon told Cliff. As Cliff lugged Bon while Phil followed, a couple guests picked up the presents from the back table and piled them where Angus, his parents, and Hannah sat. The ones who brought them seemed to be the ones who bought them as well, each looking rather excited to give them away. Mrs. Young organized them from biggest to smallest in a tower, Mr. Young moving some spare silverware. 

A mountain of silver ribbon and paper stood before them, waiting to fall if they didn't start opening them. Angus gave Hannah a few to open and took a little square box for himself. Under the white paper was a delicately carved box, a floral design running the length of the sides. There was nothing inside but a velvet lining. 

"That's a jewelry box, Angus," Mrs. Young said behind them. "Your great aunt left it behind in her will an'...I guess someone must have left it to you two."

"Oh that's-" He frowned upon further inspection, turning the box upside down letting a dead fly drop out of it. "That's thoughtful."

The next present was a new toaster. Angus, according to Malcolm, was whining about not having one so his distant cousin bought one for him. Accepting it with a cheeky smile, Angus turned around to check what Hannah had opened. Her face was red when the lid was removed, quickly placing it back. 

"What did you get?" he asked trying to sneak a peek. 

"Nothing," she said. The box was placed by her chair and kicked under the table, a few female spectators giggling in response. Mrs. Young gave Angus' shoulder a squeeze and just smiled. Mr. Young looked away for one second, missing the moment, and kept trying to ask his wife what it was that caused so much excitement. Mrs. Young only waved him off. 

After opening oven mitts, a knitted blanket, a set of pots and pans, and a cutlery set, all of their presents had been moved aside to make room for the cake. Before anyone could think about cutting it, another guest came running through the crowd, a million apologies leaving his lips as he reached the main table. Angus noticed him right away when a large box hit the table with a bang. "I'm not too late, am I?" he asked. 

"That depends, you here for presents or cake?" The man gave Angus a look in return to his smile.

"What does it look like, Angus?" he asked gesturing to the box. It was sloppily wrapped, a few corners of the paper sticking up. Tape was generously used, giving the box a glistening look. Angus gave his uncle a sideways look before pulling the paper apart as best as he could. A few minutes taken, he finally tossed the paper to the side to see a cassette player. Not quite remembering when he asked for one of them, he looked to his uncle. "Used to be mine. You see, I too was once in a band. You...may not have heard of us."

"I see."

"Anyway, we always recorded songs an' turned them into little cassette tapes. I've got some here." A bag was placed next to the player, filled to the brim with little tapes marked in chalk. Angus looked at some of the titles of the songs and realized why his uncle's band never made it past his garage. "There's quite a few in there, I was thinkin' maybe your band might give them a listen to." He laughed to himself. "Maybe you could use some of our songs, you might play 'em better than we did."

"Your band no good?" His uncle stopped smiling.

"Our drummer couldn't play drums," he said. Suddenly his eyes lit up as if he just remembered something. "Oh! An' uh, don't want to forget this one." Out of his leather jacket pocket he pulled a small black tape, with another chalked on label saying "PRESS". Angus took it. "That," his uncle pointed. "was our first interview."

"You got an interview?" Angus asked, seemingly impressed. 

"Well-Larry, our drummer...he uh...kind of had an old video camera lyin' around an' wanted to use it so...we sort of staged an interview down in his basement." Thanking his uncle and promising to listen to each tape at least once, he placed the tape labeled press in his back pocket. A knife was placed on the table next to the cake, Angus' parents stepping back to give them room. Another distant cousin brought a camera, making sure to get every angle he could and as many photos as he could to hand out to the family. Hannah grabbed the knife, Angus wrapping his own hand around hers. Making sure enough pictures were taken of the cake, they brought the knife down, coating it in frosting. Two pieces were cut from the whole, each gently given to the bride and groom. Both of them had the same idea, and soon enough frosting covered the knife, and their faces. The photographer was back for more pictures. 

George grinned at the scene. Finally his little brother had made the commitment of a life long relationship. Malcolm had done the same just months prior, with a wedding just as big as this one. He watched as some relative of his tinkered with the speakers up front. Suggesting that his band play for them wasn't as good of an idea as he thought, both Angus and Malcolm shutting him down. "Your lead singer's on more than hash an' we don't want you stressin' over anythin'. I've already got one brother on life support as it is."

The record stopped skipping and the sound grew louder than before, and the machine was left alone again. Harry sat across from him talking to Gordon, or 'Snowy' as they all called him. He hadn't paid attention to their conversation, only noticed their voices dying down and a hand clap his shoulder. "What?" he asked Harry. Harry didn't answer. He didn't need to. George followed their eyes to the doors where a little man stood, brown hair slightly covering his eyes. He wasn't dressed up for any wedding that was for sure. His shoe laces were tucked in his shoes and his shirt was half tucked, his outfit obviously planned last minute. Harry and George shared a look, Snowy standing up. "I'll go see what he wants."

"No, I'll talk to him," George said standing up as well. "I talked to him last before he left, I might as well welcome him back, right?"

"You think he's sober enough to talk to?" George pushed his chair in.

"C'mon, Snow-"

"What's he doin' here, he wasn't invited, was he?"

"Whether he was or not is Mal an' Ang's business, an' he has every right to be here as we do." Snowy didn't seem to think so but there was no changing George's mind. "I'll talk to him."

"Go ahead," he said sitting back down. "But I don't like it."

George made his way through the standing crowds and filled tables to get to the doors. The man stood there with his hands in his pockets looking absolutely lost. As if he walked in on accident. A sort of smile came upon his face when he saw George, however. "George," he said, taking a step towards his old friend. "George, I've been meanin' to talk to you-"

"Oi, one minute." The man lost his smile when George raised his hand to stop him. "When did you decide to come here?" he asked. The man looked surprised at his first question. He was unable to speak for a few seconds. 

"I uh-I didn't mean to crash or anythin', I..."

"You don't look like you planned on comin'," George said. The man looked at his sneakers and shook his head.

"No, no I didn't."

"What made you change your mind?" The man shrugged, looking anywhere except George. George waited patiently for an answer. 

"You uh, guys really went all out for this, huh?" The man looked around the building, admiring the decorations and guests. He knew the Youngs had a big family, but to see the numbers in front of him always surprised him. "Ang an' Mal...they don't know I'm here...do they?"

"Can't say we were expectin' ya'," George said. The man nodded.

"I've really fucked up."

"Stevie-"

"No, I did. I did." Stevie ran a hand through his hair, looking a little flushed. George saw he dressed a little warmly for the summer weather. "Can't even get the guys to look me in the eye."

"Snowy was about to," George said. 

"What stopped him?"

"Me. Somethin' tells me he wasn't gonna see ya' to talk. Look, they're over at that table if you want to see 'em, maybe Harry would wanna catch up-"

"I can't, I really can't." Stevie was now moving around quite a bit, not unlike Angus had been that morning. Nervous and scared. "I didn't tell them I was leavin'..."

"Steve, mate, you wanna sit down or somethin'?" George asked grabbing at the man's sleeve. Stevie pulled away, harsher than he meant. 

"They'll look for me. I'll come back an' get hell in my face."

"How long has it been?" Stevie looked to George puzzled by the question. "Since...your last-fix?"

"Too long to remember," Stevie sighed. "I'm clean, if you want to know." George nodded, turning around to see Snowy staring right at the both of them. His face didn't look too inviting, and George made the note of keeping Stevie by the door where he knew he was safe. Harry kept his eyes on his champagne, now being served around. When George turned around Stevie was already halfway out the door.

"Wait! Steve, hold on, mate." Stevie stopped, letting a light breeze in through the open door. George squinted from the sun, suddenly realizing how dark the room was. "Stay a minute. Can't ya'?"

"They'll come lookin' for me, George. They'll...they'll call. They'll call, an' someone ought to know you, they'll check your house..."

"Then why did you come here?" Stevie knew George wasn't daft enough to miss his avoidance to the question. "If it's so much a hassle, why leave?"

"Jus'...thought I'd see an old friend." Harry and Snowy were both watching them now, more curious than hostile. Stevie shifted his hands in his pockets. "If of course, we still are."

Between the good and the bad times the Easybeats had, George wouldn't have traded a single day he spent with the band for any other life. The experience with music and fame was too good to give up, despite the trench they fell into a few years ago. George couldn't speak for the rest of the band...but maybe, if he talked to them, sat down with them...

Stevie almost gasped when George grabbed him in for a hug instead of giving an answer. But perhaps, this was all the answer he needed. 

 

The music, now filling up the entire room, played through the speakers as the two danced around the floor. Hannah had never quite gotten the hang of it, but Angus insisted he never really had a knack either. Both were cleaned from cake and wrapping paper, arms around each other with a love in their eyes no one could replicate. They danced in a slower fashion than the song's tempo, but that gave them the chance to talk. "You're still better than I ever was."

"You never tripped over my feet," Hannah said nuzzling into his shoulder. Angus rested one hand on the back of her neck, feeling the necklace she wore. That locket never left her sight ever since the day he gave it to her. Surely his mother had seen it by now, prouder than ever. Now that he thought about it, he was sure she wouldn't have remembered Sherrie, or even met her for that matter. Not that Sherrie wanted a locket as old as that one in the first place. 

He thought it suited Hannah's neck well anyway.

His lips brushed against her hair, smelling a perfume he quite admired now. Not too strong, just enough to notice if one was close enough. Angus felt he could never get close enough. 

He listened to the song play around them, the quality much better than the cheap microphones they used at their school. He'd heard the song a while back on some record a friend had lent him. Hannah happened to be there and loved this particular song. Upon Angus' wish to surprise her he asked for this one to be played. 

Her smile was priceless.

A large space of the building had been given up to make room for the couple's first dance, but only a small sliver, if one could call it that, was used. The two waltzed in a circle the entire time, completely forgetting there was a whole group of people watching them. To them, it was an empty gymnasium. 

That empty gymnasium. 

"Uh oh," Angus said.

"What?" Hannah looked up from his shoulder to see him stamping his foot.

"Got an itch." He shook his foot around hoping to somehow shake the itch away but it hardly worked. It made Hannah laugh though. "Oh hush," he said hugging her again.

"I'm tired," Hannah yawned. Angus held one back himself.

"I can tell. You're trippin' every step now." With a huff Hannah nuzzled into him, closing her eyes, accidentally stepping on his foot. Again. "Hey, stand on my feet," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"We did it once."

"Yeah but I was shorter than you then, it didn't look as funny."

"You think I give a rat's ass if we look a little funny?" Angus asked with a look. "These are Youngs you're surrounded by, none of them give rat's asses what we look like up here." He could see Hannah's hesitance. "C'mon, up you get." Hannah finally gave in, stepping carefully onto the tops of his shoes, now another inch taller. It took a little effort to keep her balance, and to lean into him made him stumble out of time to the music. But in the end, the two were comfortable. And nobody's feet got hurt anymore. "Not a bad idea, yeah?"

"Oh hush," Hannah said closing her eyes again.

A light screeching sound came from the side of the room a few minutes later. "Hello, hello, hello," an amplified voice said, giggling as it spoke. "Hey, can everyone hear me? Hello out there!" Hannah looked up as Angus turned around, their eyes adjusting to the light shining on the figure up front. "Angus! 'Ello!" 

Angus waved back at the man, holding back a laugh. Hannah stepped off of Angus' feet, smiling as well. Bon stumbled around the stage holding a microphone in his hand. A mutual friend of both Bon and Malcolm was at the base, fixing the microphone's wire. He shouted something only Bon who was close enough could understand. 

"Thanks, mate." He laughed again. "It's uh-it's been a real pleasure comin' to this weddin' tonight," he said, tripping once as he spoke. The amplifier used for the record player now connected the microphone, every corner of the room turning to look at him. "Of course it's always a pleasure comin', no matter where...if you know what I mean."

He had half the room near tears while the other half fanned themselves of their blushes, looking around for similar reactions from friends. George and his band were some of those near tears, while his parents were red as tomatoes. Stevie would have laughed had he stayed. "You tell 'em, Bon!" George yelled. 

"That's a good friend down there, the groom's brother. An' there's the man himself, give another wave, Ang!" Angus hid his face in his hand this time, laughing to himself. "An' there's the little lady! It's a special day for her alright, ya' know?" Bon hiccuped into his hand. "Pardon me, had to make a pit stop on the way here, ya' know? Uh, anyway, I'd like to take a minute here to thank Phil for drivin' us back, Mal for givin' us an incredible firework of 'fuck yous' outside an' all that, an' for invitin' us, yeah. Cliff? How're you goin' over there, eh? Mal? Phil? Did I mention you already? Uh-" Bon looked around the room, jumping over the cord and swinging it around to move to the other side. "Oi, can we move the light to shine right on these two here? Right over there." Angus and Hannah squinted when the beam hit them. "There we go, right there, eh?"

"What are ya' doin'?" Angus shouted, hands cupped around his mouth, more curious than upset. Bon hadn't heard the sentence properly, and therefore only the last syllable reached his ears.

"Sing? I'm gettin' to that part, Ang." Angus sighed. "Did I say hello to you yet?" he asked with a slight frown. "'Ello, Ang!  
"Alright then, this one...is gonna take a few musicians who know what they're doin' to play, so...if I could get a few volunteers, yes? Thank you, George." Malcolm tried to stop him, remembering what he told him earlier, but then thought better of it. It was after all, George's decision. "Mal? You joinin'?" Malcolm stepped back but knew it was his guitar they brought for rhythm, and if anyone was going to be playing it tonight, it was going to be him. "Thank you, Mal, anyone else? Any drummers? Oi Phil, you play drums, right?"

George grabbed the bass, Harry followed after him to play the lead. Cliff stayed behind, watching Phil take up a small travel sized drum set with only two symbols. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get the song, as well as Bon, started. 

In the beginning, back in nineteen fifty five...  
Man didn't know 'bout a rock an' roll show, an' all that jive...

"Don't be shy!" Bon yelled. The floor was filled in minutes. Angus pulled Hannah closer, the crowds of family and friends flowing this way and that, threatening to separate them. Some tired few stayed behind at the tables watching. Bon attempted to jump off the stage with the hopes of a good amount of Youngs below to catch him but George held him back, knowing his mother was right on target. 

As loud as the song was, as bright as the room had gotten during the chorus, and as stuffy as the summer heat and dance floor became, the newly weds didn't mind. They had each other, and that was enough. 

And one hell of a group of friends.

 

It was dark outside, the only lights coming from the windows above them. The distant sound of a car driving away was the only company they had outside, save for some aerial transportation. Two feet walked down the little sidewalk, a light sheen of water covering it. They walked slower upon reaching a set of stairs, then picked up the pace in the hallway. The door was unlocked, having stayed that way the whole day waiting for occupation. Angus pushed it open, carried Hannah into the room, and closed it after them. 

Saying the room was small was an understatement. A bed took up most of the space, with one other door offering a bathroom behind it. There was no television set, only a small cassette player on the wall with a potted plant on a nearby shelf. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a lamp, dimly lit. A certain smell lingered, Angus noticing a used cigarette sitting on an ashtray still burning. He gently placed Hannah on the bed, sitting on the edge looking over her. Her hazel eyes stared right back at him, closing when he closed the distance between them. Their noses lightly brushed against each other, fingers combing through hair. A good minute or two passed before they pulled apart.

"I needed that," Angus mumbled. "A lot."

"It's only been a few hours," Hannah reasoned.

"Yeah, but my mum was watchin'," Angus said playing with the locket around her neck. "An' Mal an' George, an' the Prime Minister an' everyone."

"You're exaggerating."

"Hardly." His fingers dropped the necklace and instead wandered their way back to her hair. She had gotten it cut earlier that month, no longer hanging in front of her eyes when she sat down to write or read. No longer getting a mouthful when she ate dinner and no longer leaving so much behind in the shower. Angus had to admit, it looked cute. She often stated that her ears were a lot colder. Angus would remedy it with a small kiss to warm them up and she'd be too speechless to answer, hiding behind her sweater sleeves. His lips found one of her ears and kissed the top of it, making their way down her jaw up to her cheek, smiling when she laughed. "Somethin' funny to you?"

"It tickles," she admitted.

"Hmm..." His hand reached around her neck and tickled the back of it. She squirmed underneath him laughing even louder. 

"Stop that!"

He didn't. 

"If I stop, then you stop laughin', an' I kinda like hearin' you laugh."

"If-if I don't-stop-laughing, then I can't-breathe!" Angus thought this over.

"Well it'd be a shame if you stopped breathin'. Alright, alright. Free to go." He moved his hands away from her waiting for her to catch her breath. 

"Thank you," she said. Angus removed his jacket and tossed it on a solitary chair, leaning in again before Hannah could sit up.

"Ah ah ah, I didn't say I was done with you yet," he said with a grin. Catching her lips with his, he spent another minute with her. Finally pulling away leaving them both breathless, he smiled. "I love you, ya' know."

"You don't say," Hannah said.

"Hey, don't get cheeky with me, that's what gets you tickled in the first place." She moved over on the bed giving Angus room to lie down next to her. He held her close to him, resting his head on hers. That perfume made another appearance as he kissed her hair.

"I love you too," she mumbled into his neck. Angus laughed when her breath tickled his skin, getting back at him. 

"You still tired?" he asked. "From dinner an' dancin'?"

"Even more so," she replied. "You?" He tilted his head back and forth.

"A bit." The two lay there in silence for a while, savoring the other's company. A few car horns went off outside, wheels of suitcases rolling by in the hallway. Angus shifted in his spot. 

"Can't sleep?" Hannah asked.

"Haven't tried too hard," Angus admitted. "But I can't say I'm driftin' off either." He shifted again. "That present you opened earlier...what was in it?" Hannah sat up.

"Which one?"

"The one you wouldn't show me?" The corner of his mouth turned upward as Hannah still refused to answer, her cheeks turning awfully warm. "Was it...It was, wasn't it?"

"Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't, the point is it's gone now, I gave it to someone else." Angus huffed.

"Spoil sport."

"Well? You can wear it then if you're so interested." The two were quiet again. Angus tapped his fingers on Hannah's shoulder. The marks up and down her arms were still there. Not as noticeable, but there. Serving as permanent reminders of him. "I can't sleep either."

Angus stirred, turning onto his side so he could look at Hannah. She lay her head on the pillow, staring with half lidded eyes into his own, too tired to sleep. Angus cupped her chin, running a thumb over her cheek. "Maybe we ought to...I mean, I don't know if you want to but, if neither of us can sleep...it might help."

"What do you mean?" His eyes darted over to the wall and back to her own. Hannah turned her head to see, and nodded. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess it-it would help."They sat up on the bed, straightening themselves out. "Do you-do you still have it?"

"I believe so..." He felt around his back pocket. "Yeah, I've still got it."

"It's not broken, is it?" Hannah teased. 

"No, I jus' got it today, it's fine."

"You've been sitting on it a while..."

"An' it's uncomfortable, I'll be glad to put it to use." He grabbed his tie and pulled it, loosening the knot before taking it off. Hannah stood from the bed. "Where're you goin'?"

"Getting a bit more comfortable is all, this dress is getting a little scratchy." Setting his tie on the chair with his jacket he caught up with her and turned her around.

"Let me help." He took the zipper being as careful as he could, and pulled it down a ways. "There, can you reach that?" Hannah's arm twisted behind her and easily found the zipper.

"That's fine. Thank you."

"Nothin' to it." The bathroom door closed and Angus sat back down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and untying his laces. Two shoes fell to the carpet in a hasty way, kicked to stand next to the chair. His feet were sore. The bathroom door opened again, Hannah stepping out in a black nightgown she wore under her dress, the dress itself folded over her arm. Angus grinned. "Don't you look a picture," he said fiddling with his shirt cuffs. "You can put it on the chair, it's where all my stuff is."

Before Hannah set her dress down she took note of the pile of laundry. "How many clothes are you taking off?" she asked.

"As much as I've got," he said, giving her a smug grin. He laughed when she swatted the dress at him before setting it down. "What, you can't expect me to wear pants an' all when all you've got is a...that negligee."

"It's a nightgown, Angus," Hannah laughed. Angus shrugged, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, then taking the time to remove his pants. 

"Believe it or not I'm not too familiar with women's underwear," he said, setting his pants on the bed. "Well, not all those fancy names anyway." His hand felt around in the back pocket, grabbing the nuisance he was glad to be rid of sitting on. "Here, I can put it on."

As Hannah made herself comfortable under the covers, Angus took the cassette labelled press up to the player on the wall. Figuring out how it worked took two seconds and he turned the volume to a reasonable level. Only crackling static came out, before a few faint voices were heard.

"Has being in this band taught you any lessons, any useful skills?"

"Well, Joey over there taught me to open a can of beer with my teeth..."

A chorus of voices laughed. Angus slipped under the covers as well, knocking his pants aside, and pulling Hannah over to hold her again. She wrapped her arms around his waist and furthered her habit of nuzzling into him. Making sure she was warm and snug, he kissed her forehead. "Maybe my uncle an' his mates can put us to sleep," he said. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight."


	4. Chapter Four

"Shhh...shhh...it's alright, you're alright..."

Shadows hit the wall with a sharp, black, clearness, the lamp on the bedside the only bright thing in the room. The tape had ended hours ago, both parties fast asleep when it did. There was no clock on the wall to tell the time, and no blue in the sky to explain being awake. Hannah kept her face hidden in her knees, shaking violently. Angus grabbed a blanket from the bed and placed it around her, holding her still from her shaking. This wasn't the first time this happened and Angus knew it was far from being the last.

"He-was there-"

"Shhh..."

"H-he was th-there, I saw him-" she gasped. 

"Calm down, sweetheart, he's not here anymore." Angus did his best to reassure her. It seemed his words fell on deaf ears. Hannah shook her head, unable to stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. Angus grimaced at the sight. A whole year gone by and still several months more, and that man still haunted her. While his presence was accepted in jail instead, his impact had left both of them huddled on the floor in the middle of the night, one drowning in her own tears.

And Angus hated to see women cry. 

"It was real, I s-saw him!"

Angus kept quiet, knowing she'd calm down in a few minutes. Telling her it wasn't real never worked; simply sitting next to her and holding her still harbored the favored result. He learned the trick the fourth time it happened a month ago. The third, two months ago. The second, five months. The first falling on the night she moved in with him. He would never forget it. 

"The back row...looking at me...he wouldn't leave, he-he meant to hurt me again..." She gasped again, her face by now soaked. Angus' shirt soaked it up as she turned her head to hide into him, hoping he would block out any view or memory of that man.

"He's gone now," Angus said, deciding this was the best thing to say. "I'm here instead, alright?You're safe now, sweetheart." He pulled her up on his lap, stretching his bare legs out on the carpet. She wasted no time burying her head between his neck and shoulder, hoping to block out everything: sight, sound, touch... Angus adjusted the blanket around her and rubbed her back, drawing endless circles, countless pictures. Maybe the motions of his fingers would distract her from the pain of her nightmares. His neck was warm, and wet with tears, her muffled gasps and shaking scaring him. 

She should have calmed down by now. 

If this hadn't been her fourth one, he would have thought she couldn't breathe, or had a sudden onset of asthma or the like. Moving one hand to her hair, he pushed some stray bits behind her ear, running his fingers through it. He hummed a bit, not quite sure which song, just loud enough so only she could hear him. Second by second, minute by minute, until surely an hour had gone by. Hannah's shaking had begun to subside, her whimpers and gasps turned to a steady breathing. Angus turned his head as much as he could, before his lips brushed over her hair. He finally removed his hand after smoothing it down.

She fell asleep. Angus kept to the floor, knowing she needed the sleep more than he did. 

The sun was beginning to come up anyway.


	5. Chapter Five

"Her food is in the pantry behind you, let me show you..."

Angus opened the door and pulled out a small brown bag filled with pellets. Susan stood aside to let him set it on the counter. A measuring cup was inside, buried halfway. Just a scoop every morning an' a half a scoop every night should keep her from nippin' at ya'. She's on a bit of a diet, she's gotten quite fat recently."

"I can see that," Susan laughed. She offered her hand for the brown rabbit to smell, her little nose twitching as a greeting. She had indeed grown larger over the months since they got her. Her movements were slower, and she kept to her bed licking and cleaning as of late. "What's her name again?"

Angus frowned and closed his eyes. "Her..my...nee," he said sounding it out. "Hermione, Hannah says it's Greek or somethin'."

"I bet she named her, huh?"

"It's her rabbit, ya' know, an' she likes it." He grinned at her. "I like it too. Now we'll only be gone a couple weeks, it won't be long."

"Take as long as you need, you don't get a honeymoon every year," Susan said putting the food away in the pantry. "If anything I wish I had gotten more of what I did. Two days at the nearest beach isn't exactly what I call romantic."

"Anythin's romantic if it's someone you love, ya' know," Angus said, grinning when Hannah appeared from the bedroom rolling a suitcase behind her with gloved hands. Her baby blue dress swished as she walked, having been washed and ironed last night. Her black hat kept sliding in front of her eyes, Hannah huffing every time she adjusted it. The ribbon tied around it flowed behind her like the tail of a kite. "Havin' a spot of trouble are we, love?"

"Nothing more than a spot," she grumbled, standing the suitcase upright and taking her hat off. "I'm okay. Susan? You know what to feed Hermione?"

"Don't worry, Hannah, Angus showed me. I'll make sure not to feed her too much, I can see she needs a little break." 

"Thank you so much for doing this, Susan, we really didn't mean for you to stay here so long and not see your family," Hannah said with an apologetic look on her face. Susan waved her hand.

"It's alright, I'm doing this for two very close friends. When does your plane leave?"

Angus glanced at his new clock on the wall. "There ain't enough time to say," he said grabbing what he could and heading for the door. Hannah rushed to open it for him, and grabbed her own suitcase to follow him. 

"We'll be back in time for Christmas, okay?" she called behind her. 

"No worries, I'll have the place looking like you never left," Susan replied. 

"You can sleep on the couch, or on the bed, we don't mind," Hannah said turning back around again. Angus was already halfway down the hall, dropping things behind him. He reached the stairs by the time he finally noticed, rolling his eyes and turning around to pick them up. 

"I think the couch will be enough, the little one won't mind," she said with a hand on her stomach. "I can phone a taxi if the time comes. Which it won't," she added to remedy Hannah's concerned expression. Hannah turned and almost ran into Angus, who had just picked up a pair of sunglasses. 

"What are you doing?"

He straightened himself and balanced the clutter in his arms. "I dropped a bit, had to come back."

"That's what a suitcase is for, Angus," Hannah said putting her hat back on. Angus took the brim and placed it over her eyes.

"There wasn't any room, Miss Mouthy," he teased, then upon setting off down the hallway again, realized he dropped more various necessities on his return the first time. He sighed, and headed for a hand towel crumpled on the floor. Hannah moved the hat out of her face, pushing the ribbon behind her again. 

"Sorry about that, you have enough food? Enough clothes with you?" she asked Susan.

"I can go shopping tomorrow, since I'm eating for two and I'm sure nothing of yours would fit me, but thanks for the offer," Susan smiled. 

"We really appreciate this, we couldn't get anyone else to watch the place while we were gone. Malcolm's got his own wife and kid, Cliff's with a girlfriend, you know."

"It's fine, I can look after a small apartment and rabbit, I have three kids of my own. I need a break."

Hannah turned to go at Angus calling her name. "Oh, remember to clean out Hermione's cage every few days, she's awfully picky about that. And she likes the spot behind her ear to be scratched, and don't be afraid to play a little music for her in the evenings. Angus usually does with his guitar, but he's taking it with us andbecarefulnottopinchhertail!" Hannah wasn't sure if Susan heard her correctly as Angus returned to the room and grabbed Hannah's hand, pulling her along. Susan only smiled and shut the door.

 

"Give me my hand back," Hannah said, her suitcase landing with a thud on every step of the stairs. Angus let her go, not responding as he carried the hand towel in his mouth. Hannah used her liberated hand to fix her hat for the umpteenth time. 

"Sphawy, sbeethot, put ee haf a kaw waytin."

"I was just making sure Hermione has proper care. I'm worried about her, you know. She's been eating way more than necessary and hasn't moved much since we got her." Angus heaved his guitar case over his shoulder, a few spare sweaters flopping around in his arms. 

"Tote oo shrusht er?"

"Of course I do." Hannah picked a piece of fuzz off her dress and let it fall. "But I don't know anyone who plays music like you and I know how much Hermione likes it when you play."

"I ike plain too, ats why ine akee ig." They both reached the taxi, which had been waiting outside the apartments for five minutes. Courteous of other residents still sleeping, the driver refrained from honking the horn. He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk, helping Hannah situate her suitcase. Angus set his own down and took the towel out of his mouth, making a face. "I'm figurin' somethin' out when we get to the airport, this is bollocks."

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?" Hannah said turning to face him. He waved her off. She fixed the glove that started sliding off her hand, and noticed all the various things Angus brought along with him. The hand towel and sunglasses, an overcoat, and some bits and bobs here and there. A full suitcase sitting under his left hand and his guitar case in his right. "Would you like me to carry something, Angus?"

The face he made her almost drove her to hysterics. "Thank God, I thought you'd never ask!" he teased, placing his guitar case in her arms and kissing her nose. "I'd like a cup for the ride over too if ya' don't mind, maybe a little neck massage while we're at it?"

The driver took Angus' guitar and set it in the trunk a little less carefully than Angus would have liked, but he let it go when his extra clothes were neatly folded beside it. He opened the back door, letting Hannah step in first, then climbed in after, instinctively putting his arm around her. She fastened her seat belt, leaning into him, closing her eyes. He sighed in response, turning his head to look down at her. 

No allusion to that night ever came up between them. As if she wanted to forget it ever happened, just like she wanted to forget all the other attacks she'd had since moving in. If she had one on their honeymoon she'd never forgive herself, apologizing every minute for putting such a bad time on the both of them. It was better to bring it up now than leave it to fate.

"Hey." She stirred as he nudged her, and sat up. 

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

She shrugged. "Anxious, I guess. You know how I am with travelling despite all I've done when we moved...and now Hermione is in someone else's care and-"

"I'm not talkin' about that," he said taking her hand and squeezing it in his own. "I meant...you remember, a few nights ago?" Hannah's face fell.

"Oh."

"I'm just askin' ya' know, makin' sure you're okay. I don't want you thinkin' you'll spoil anythin' by havin' another one-"

"Who says I'll have another one?" Hannah said lifting her head up. Angus opened his mouth to speak, but let her continue instead. "Maybe I'll be fine, maybe...nothing will happen. It's only a couple of weeks, right?"

Angus could see her skepticism. Rather than ramble about the shortening intervals between each attack, he simply kissed her head as an answer, bringing her close when she leaned into him again. "We'll just eh...strum that solo when we get to it, yeah?" Hannah hid the smile she gave herself at his choice of words. She brushed her hat out of her line of sight, and grumbled when the force of the trunk being closed knocked it down again. "What's the matter?" Angus asked, his eyes closed. 

"It's this hat Margaret gave me. Keeps slipping down." Angus took it from her and inspected it. 

"Well, be glad you don't look like some bobble head, yeah? I bet if you had hair like mine...or hair like Bon, imagine, I bet..." He took the hat and placed it on his own head, the brim covering his eyes as well. "Huh. What size did Margaret buy?"

"I don't know, but-" She laughed seeing Angus make himself comfortable in his seat, tilting the hat so it covered his eyes on purpose. The ribbons lay over each of his shoulders. The driver's door opened and he sat behind the wheel, looking through the mirror to ask a question, and reconsidering when he saw Angus' reflection grinning back at him. 

 

Angus' hand began to turn white. Hannah sat by the window, her gaze locked solely on the clouds below them, getting smaller and smaller with each bounce of turbulence. Her leg was bouncing too in what little room their seats allowed them. He set the plane magazine down and looked out the window as well.

"I hate flying," Hannah mumbled, feeling his close presence. Angus rubbed his thumb over her hand and she lessened her grip, the color returning. 

"Ya' know, I'm not the biggest fan either when it comes to these things, ya 'know."

"But you're used to it." She tore away from the window and sat back in her seat, her leg going crazy. "I was miserable on the way to America when we moved, and even going to Australia for the first time..." She hid her face in his arm mumbling something to which Angus couldn't hear. 

"Doesn't make it any easier on me," he said. "Remember I moved across the globe too, farther than you did. Granted I didn't leave again for a while but..." He replaced his hand holding hers with the other one, then moved the free one to rub her back. "I hated every second, ya' know. An' I don't like it now."

Hannah took her hand away, moved the arm rest aside, and wrapped her arms around him in a sort of hug. As soon as the clouds fell below the plane the shaking eased up, and so did Hannah's nerves. Angus picked up the magazine again and held it in a way so both of them could see it. The words blended together on each page he turned to, and the roar of the engine lulled Hannah to a sleepy state. Her eyes shifted to the left, and saw another passenger bring his tray down so he could read his magazine on a table. He looked familiar, the haircut, his profile, all of him down to the bridge of his nose. Her heart began to race, and with a gasp she tightened her hold on Angus. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What's wrong?" he asked turning a page. When she didn't answer he turned his head to see what she was looking at. 

"Nothing," she dismissed. Content to hide any signs of another attack, this one a public display, she hid her face again and closed her eyes. "Nothing, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

She didn't answer. Having found nothing of interest in the magazine he set it down again and figured a bit of sleep was a good idea. Holding his girl close to him he closed his eyes, and tried to distract his mind from how high the altitude was growing. He stretched his legs glad of the extra leg room he had from his height. The band by now must be having adventures of their own in local bars or their apartments. Susan might be having lunch in their kitchen, or reading a newspaper. He took his mind away from Susan and thought of having to shove their extra belongings in their suitcases once they reached the airport, and Angus having forgotten to take off Hannah's hat. A few minutes had passed before he realized why everyone stared at him funny, and why Hannah kept holding back a laugh. He laughed too after a fashion. He wasn't afraid to look silly in front of her, she would think fondly of him. Ask him when he was fourteen and he'd be terrified of pulling a stunt like that in front of Susan. She'd never give him the time of day. She certainly gave Victor Krauss the time of day, after she realized Angus was in love with someone else. And she gave him four kids too, half the amount of children his own parents had. Angus hadn't really given much thought to his own kids, if he would have any. Knowing what Hannah had to go through with Travis he wouldn't rush into anything. He tried thinking of something else besides Susan.

His drift into the arms of sleep was interrupted when Hannah mumbled his name. "Angus...?"

"What?" he asked. 

"...I love you," she whispered. Angus leaned his head against hers, gazing at her face.

"I love you too," he whispered back, kissing her head.

 

It was evening by the time they reached their hotel. Snow covered every street and still came down. Hannah threw her weight down on the bed completely exhausted. Angus closed the door and set his guitar case down, taking a spot next to her. A light fixture hung above them at an awkward angle while a few framed pieces of artwork decorated the walls. The white sheets flashed a contrast against the dark floor and paint. A sign written completely in German hung above a vase filled with fake lilies: Der frühe Vogel fängt den Wurm. Angus decided it had to do with worms and looked for something else to focus his attention on. 

Hannah rolled off the bed and headed for her suitcase, opening it in search of something to sleep in. "Turnin' in?"

"After I take a shower," she responded. "I need to find my nightgown under all your sweaters."

"Your negligee?" he teased.

"Nightgown, Angus! For crying out loud..." She dropped her smile after removing five of Angus' sweaters from her suitcase and finally pulling out her nightgown underneath. Placing the sweaters back and standing up she continued. "Covers more of me than your napkins ever will."

Angus took a minute to think of what she was talking about. He started laughing, removing his coat and laying it on the bed. Ever since they were kids she'd tease him about the contents of his sock drawer. Malcolm had a good laugh about it too when he showed her. Angus threw a sneaker at him when he shoved a pair onto his head, Hannah laughing up a storm on the floor. 

The water from the shower was unusually loud. The one at the apartment was so quiet you had to be careful to lock the door lest someone invite themselves in thinking it was empty. Phil stayed over once not knowing this, and had some serious explaining to do before Angus drowned him in the bathtub. 

Fifteen minutes later the water stopped; another five minutes and the bathroom door opened. Angus didn't look up from his spot on the bed, and his head was covered by a piece of fabric someone had draped on him. He opened his eyes to see a pair of his own underwear inches from his mouth. "Hey!"

"It's your turn," Hannah said drying her hair out with a towel. Her messy hair and flushed skin combined with her nightgown made Angus reconsider the loveliness of the artwork on the walls around him. "I brought you a clean napkin."

"Thanks. You soak up all the hot water?" he asked sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I thought about it but I wanted to get to bed as soon as I could." Hannah folded the towel and placed it on the bathroom counter. She came back out, Angus taking her hands and pulling her to sit on his lap. Situating her legs on either side of him, she wrapped her arms around her neck. 

"Are ya' too tired to have any dinner?" he asked hugging her waist. She shrugged. "I can make us some when I get out, if that's alright."

"That's fine," she yawned. 

"What do you want?"

"I don't know, doesn't matter I guess." She rested her head against his shoulder, quickly removing it when Angus placed the small piece of fabric up to her nose. "Get-get that away from me!"

He laughed and stood up after her. "That's what you get. I'll be out in twenty minutes, alright? If I'm not out by then feel free to come check on me," he giggled to himself as Hannah tickled his neck. Closing the door after him, he turned the water on.

 

Hannah was asleep when he came out twenty minutes later. She had a blanket draped over her waist and an arm under her pillows, supporting her head. A towel around his shoulders, his hair still dripping wet, Angus walked to the side of the bed and leaned down, kissing her cheek. "Goodnight, love."


	6. Chapter Six

"I still don't see why you brought those sunglasses," Hannah said, the couple shivering in their spots at the bus stop. A hard snowfall buried the two in a white blanket, slowing traffic and keeping the Swiss neighbors indoors. 

"I still don't see why you picked Switzerland for our honeymoon," Angus replied, snow glittering his hair. Hannah reached a hand up and brushed it off, getting her coat wiped off in return. 

"You could have picked some place different, some place warmer." Checking for anymore snow on her shoulders, Angus put arm around them. His feet shuffled in place, making the only tracks left visible in the blizzard. Only one car was on the road, and it was parked. More like stuck under a mound of snow. Two or three people took to the streets for work or afternoon shopping. "With sun, and beaches, and women in swimsuits for you to look at."

Angus choked out a cough. "As divine as that would be, Hannah Ruth, I think spendin' time with my own wife is far more appealin'," he said giving her a smile. It grew when a certain idea hatched in his mind. "Of course, if you decide you want to wear a swimsuit I've no problems with that ya' know."

Giving him an undecided look, Hannah reached to the ground and picked up a handful of snow. Angus squirmed around from the snow pouring down his shirt. "Or you could wear the swimsuit. A bikini perhaps?"

"You think I'd look good in one?" he laughed shaking the snow out. Picking up a handful himself he poured it down the front of her shirt. One moment bled into the next and soon both were rolling on the freezing ground, courtesy of Hannah tackling the man down. Angus' sunglasses rolled around in his pocket when he removed them to see his opponent better. With snow and ice in hair, mouths, and other various places, the two made the most of the grey winter and the wait for the bus. The wrestling match turned into a snowball fight once they regained their upright positions. 

"Hold still so I can aim properly!"

"So you can miss without an excuse?" he laughed. Taking a step backward Angus slipped, grabbing onto Hannah to steady himself. It did no good as both landed on the ground in a fit of giggles. Both hearts were beating in a frantic rhythm, faces flushed with cold embarrassment. Running a hand through her hair, Angus watched her laugh, trying to catch the breath she took away from him. The snow really wasn't so cold anymore. Finally Hannah noticed Angus' daydreaming and lowered her volume. 

"What?" He shook his head.

"Nothin'," he murmured. Hannah's cheeks were bright red, her nose like that of a certain reindeer. Her lashes fluttered innocently, Angus' grin creeping up from the opposite side of the hill. One hand palmed her cheek, bringing her face closer to his own. "You're just...just...ya' know..."

"I'm what?"

He brought his lips closer to her, whispering against her own: "Cold."

Before she could respond Angus' other hand palmed the back of her neck, a handful of snow covering it. Squirming out of his grasp she shivered, the man taking his turn to laugh solo. "It's not funny!"

"If you were in my shoes you'd think it was." He stood up and offered his hand to Hannah, who took it with a sneer.

"You think you're so clever."

"Well..." he shrugged. Brakes screeched close by, Hannah turning to see the bus pulling up. 

"Angus?"

"Yeah?" Hannah pointed over his shoulder. The doors opened to a small, heavyset man in his late thirties driving the bus. Angus smiled at the man and receiving none in return, he took Hannah's hand and helped her on the bus. 

The only people on it were a woman and her daughter, both with blonde curls. The daughter had a few ribbons in her hair, however, to match her pink coat. Angus and Hannah took the seats in the very back, sitting down as the doors closed. With a sense of curiosity, the little girl turned around in her seat to watch the two. Her nose peaked over the top of the leather, grabbing on with her hands as the bus began to move. 

She hid her face as Angus noticed her, and gave her a little smile. Two seconds later she reappeared, this time Angus giving her a wave. She hid behind the seat again. Just as before she showed her face a third time, a sort of game beginning between the two. Every time she looked behind the seat Angus would be making some sort of face or doing something funny with his hands. Hannah observed the pair, feeling a pit in her stomach. The scene made her laugh no doubt, and the bond Angus easily made with children warmed her up, but something about a child, taking care of them, taking care of a baby...

Hermione was easy enough to take care of. She didn't cry at three in the morning or need feeding every few hours. If she ate that much, she'd be the size of four rabbits. Something about animals were easier to look after for Hannah, easier to have sympathy for. But seeing Angus play with the child, seeing him laugh...

Her heart jumped.

What if her child ended up like she did? The daughter of a mother who took away any friendships she might form, move them away to America, forcing her to live her life as a captive, her only kisses from the lips of a cigar? 

After gaining the attention of her mother who whispered something to her in French, the little girl turned around in her seat and faced the front, Angus putting his hands down from making devil horns. No words were exchanged on the bus, eventually stopping on a street with a grocery store. No one else came on, the couple in the back remaining quiet. 

With a gruff sigh, the driver pulled the bus up to the next stop, opening the doors in front of a miniature restaurant. Taking her hand, Angus led Hannah off the bus back into the snow. "Thanks for the ride," Hannah said, knowing the man probably didn't speak English. 

Inside was much more crowded than the weather would suggest. Tables wall to wall were filled with families and couples, some platonic, others romantic. Three tables behind a velvet curtain were available at the very back, Angus taking the only one with a salt and pepper shaker. Hannah sat down, removing her wet coat. "Sorry 'bout that," Angus said grinning like a schoolboy. 

"Better hope I don't start a food fight in this place," Hannah said. "It's only fair."

"And have us kicked out?"

"And not have to pay the bill?" Angus tilted his head. 

"Hmm...depends on what's for lunch. Anything look nice?" he asked picking up a menu. Hannah took one for herself. 

"This soup would look real good in your hair." Angus' eyes peeked over his menu. 

"You're kiddin', right?" Hannah didn't answer. "Hannah?" A waitress came over breaking the inquiry. 

"Bonjour, welcome to our little cafe," she said with a smile. "Any drink I can get for you?"

"Tea is fine, for both of us," Angus said looking to Hannah for confirmation. She nodded while the waitress wrote it down. "With milk, please."

"Of course," she said leaving the table for the kitchen. The restaurant wasn't fancy, much more cozy. The tablecloths were red and white checkered, while pale blue curtains hung from every window. The snow stopped falling, a little bit of sun coming out. 

"Know any French?" Angus asked looking over the menu again. 

"Only a couple of rude things," Hannah responded. "Not swear words, but awfully rude."

"Rude?"

"I can tell someone to go to hell but that's not exactly table talk, you know?" Angus laughed. 

"Could come in handy. But I mean, you don't know anything on this menu? Recognize any food?" Hannah's fingers tapped against the menu, her tongue clicking against her teeth. "That a no?"

"I know escargot isn't anything I'm interested in," Hannah muttered to herself. "But...ooh! They have peach cobbler!" Angus looked down at his own menu, scanning the lines trying to find it.

"Isn't that more of a dessert?"

"Like either of us are ones to turn down a dessert?" Thinking of raiding the dessert table a while back with his brother, Angus stuck his tongue between his teeth in a sly grin. 

"Alright, fair enough. We'll both get one."

 

Two napkins covered in cobbler sat on two plates scraped clean of the dessert. Both guests gaining half a pound and feeling tired but slightly happier, they stayed a bit longer to rest and talk. A bit of sun had come out from behind the clouds, the falling snow ceasing as the afternoon wore on. Minute by minute the busyness of the cafe had dwindled, leaving the two a bit more comfortable. Angus set his mug down, his third cup of tea finished. "You allergic to peaches?" he asked.

Hannah looked to him in confusion before glancing down where he was looking. The spots on her arms were faded, yes, but in their place little red marks had appeared. She took her hands away from them, and folded them on the table. "No, I'm not," she answered. "I hadn't realized I was scratching them so much."

"What's wrong with them?"

"Just itchy, that's all." She took a sip of her own tea, her second cup. "I think they're still healing, maybe, or maybe I just have a rash."

"Still healin'?" Angus asked with skepticism. "Eh, I dunno, are you sure you're not allergic to peaches?"

"My mom is, but I know I'm not. I've never had a problem before, and this isn't the first my arms have itched." Angus frowned.

"How long have they been like this?"

She shrugged, rubbing a palm up and down her arm to smooth out the sore skin. "I don't remember when it started, but I'd say..." She shrugged again. "A few months now?"

"You didn't tell me?" Hannah looked down at her plate, hiding from whatever face Angus had. He didn't continue, instead watching her in silence, letting her answer if she wanted to. When she didn't, he held out his hand. "Let me see."

Slowly she showed him her arm. He took it gently in his hand, ghosting his thumb over the skin. Small flaky patches overlapped the faded burns. A few were looking much better than they had, the blackened marks returning to their pleasant pink. Bringing her wrist closer he pressed his lips to it, hoping to leave a better mark behind. Hannah took her arm back, taking a drink of her tea again. "What do you think?"

"I think your skin's rather soft," Angus answered despite the eye roll Hannah gave him. "Maybe not all of it, but it doesn't bother me."

"Thanks." Hannah scratched a bit again.

"If ya' keep scratchin' it won't get better," Angus said pointing at her. "Ya' think lotion would help?"

Hannah grabbed her napkin tightly in her hand to keep it occupied. "It wouldn't hurt to try." 

A few minutes passed as the two sat in a comfortable silence. Angus' eyes were closed, his head tilted back, arms crossed over his chest. Hannah slowly emptied her tea mug, making sure to keep the napkin in her hand. After a while the itching stopped. "You ready to go?" Angus asked keeping his eyes closed.

"If you are," Hannah responded. Angus opened one eye to look at her.

"We can go anytime you're ready, it don't matter a pinch to me," he said. "Don't let me make your decisions." Hannah nodded and stood up, setting her napkin down to grab her coat. Angus followed suit, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

"I can pay for my meal if you want," Hannah said buttoning her coat. 

"They cost the same, you don't have to."

"I don't want you paying for everything." Angus took the money from the wallet, holding it a while as he looked at Hannah. 

"Would it be polite for a man to pay for his lady's food," he said, thinking of how to word his sentence. "if beforehand he asked her out on a date?" Hannah mulled it over. 

"I suppose," she said. "I guess it doesn't matter who pays," she decided. 

"An' if I asked you out on a date," Angus continued. "would you be willin' to let me pay for the meal? Both of them?" His eyes sparkled something Hannah recognized. Gentlemanly mischief. 

"If you really wanted to, then...yeah, you could." He grinned, his heart turning a cartwheel when she smiled back. 

"Well then..." He stepped around the table, the grin still lingering like a school boy talking to his crush, took her hand in his and held it an inch from his lips. "may I have the pleasure of takin' you out for a date?" A little nervous Hannah laughed, turning red when her hand was pecked. 

"I'd like that," she finally said. Angus set the money on the table and put his wallet back in his pocket, keeping her hand tight in his own as they left the cafe. 

"So where would you like to go next on our date?" Angus asked holding the door open for her. 

"The snow hasn't melted," Hannah observed, holding a hand over her eyes to check the blue sky. 

"Well it is only ten degrees out today," Angus said wrapping an arm over her shoulders. Deciding not to pour any more snow on his hair, Hannah instead tickled his side. 

"We could take advantage of it," she suggested. Angus frowned, uneasy about the giant grin Hannah had. 

 

"I'm not very good at this, ya' know," Angus said, keeping his balance by holding the girl. Hannah slowly moved one foot after the other, also using him to stay upright. 

"You were pretty professional when we skated in London a while back," Hannah replied, refusing to let the man go. Angus wiggled a bit, having trouble fixing his coat with Hannah latched on so tight. 

"There were rails, we were indoors, I was younger then," Angus argued. He nearly slipped. 

"So was I, and it usually goes, the more you do it, the better you get."

"So what's your excuse?" Angus asked, laughing like a child at her frown. The pond they found wasn't big, only a few people could skate on it at a time. But with the unfavorable temperatures and the busy work week, no one else was out there except the two of them. And that suited them just fine. A light wind kissed their faces, Hannah shivering at the new sensation. "You cold?"

"I'm not used to my ears being so cold," she said. She examined his hair. "Your hair is getting longer than mine, people might get us backwards."

"Maybe if I stuffed a couple snowballs up my shirt, then..." Angus shrugged as Hannah laughed. "Then maybe I'd look like a woman. My hair used to be much longer than this, back when...after you left, a few years after you left."

"I'll bet you looked real cute," Hannah said minding her step on the ice. Angus brought a hand to his hair, puffing it up.

"You should have seen it, magazine cover worthy," he said. "Knock those models off their feet, an' put me in." 

"It's probably not safe without skates here." Angus looked up and saw still no one by the stand, the whole place completely deserted. The two took step after step with generous care, the pond still in place without a single crack. 

"Well if either of us fall through the other has to pull a Superman an' save 'em then," Angus said tightening his grip. "I can use all my excess weight as an anchor to pull you out."

"Maybe we'll float," Hannah said. "We won't sink an' we'll just be very cold instead."

"Floatin' like two rubber ducks." It was quiet a while before Angus leaned closer to talk in Hannah's ear. "Quack." She laughed, surprised by the sudden noise from his mouth. "Quack, quack."

"What are you doing?"

"Come on, do it. Quack quack."

Hannah's quacks were a little too realistic giving Angus a serious case of the giggles. "Why are you laughing at me, you started it!"

"I don't know all what hobbies you had growin' up, what you did in your bedroom by yourself-" He stopped to get back on track after laughing up a storm with the young woman. "but-but I think I have every right to laugh at whatever the hell that was."

Hannah inched her way off the ice, Angus following her lead, the both of them stepping onto the powdery snow. One cloud still glided in the sky, barely covering the sun. Keeping his arms around her, Angus led her to a bench laden with icicles underneath. Taking comfort in a place to sit and the other's embrace, they relaxed a few minutes in an icy silence. 

The sounds of traffic crawled the streets in the distance. The air sat fresh and crisp upon their skin, upon their smiles and closed eyes. Angus' wool coat brushed against Hannah's cheek, warming her up instantly. It was a long while before any of them spoke. "You sure you slept enough?" Angus asked turning his head.

"Mmhmm..." Hannah mumbled into his arm, her breathing slowing down to that of falling snow. Her bangs fell in her face, Angus taking a minute to brush them away, admiring the picture they covered. Her pale skin had pinked over the year ever since moving away from Travis. While still skinny, frightfully so, Angus always made sure she had enough to eat at dinner. Something that Travis never considered.

"You ready to go back, any more sights ya' want to see?"

"Mmmm."

"I can't understand grizzly bear, ya' know," he teased. Removing her arms from around his waist she reached into her pocket, searching around for something. After a minute of fruitless rummaging, Angus spoke up. "You cravin' a cigarette?"

"My nose is running," Hannah said checking her right pocket a third time. 

"Your pockets can't be that deep, they're probably empty."

"I packed a tissue before we left, I had one in here!" Something caught Angus' eye as he turned his head towards the pond. 

"Is that it?" There among the white fluff, was a white cloth, inching its way along the ground as the breeze blew across the wintry park. Hannah's lips formed a perfect pout.

"Unfortunately." Giving Angus a side eye, and giving a longing look to his coat sleeve, she grinned and wagged her eyebrows up and down. 

"Not a chance, Hannah Ruth, not a chance." She slumped in her spot. "You catchin' a cold or somethin'?"

"No, it's just cold out."

"Maybe we ought to head back to the hotel, where it's warm." Once again burying her face into Angus' shoulder, she mumbled a noise of content. Content to stay right where she was. Perhaps she was frozen to the bench, but Angus didn't have to know. "You'd prefer to dry your nose on my coat then?"

I'm warm enough right here," Hannah insisted. At least, that's what Angus thought she said, it was hard to hear with wool in her mouth. 

"I think a hotel bed would be much better, ya' know..." Angus began thinking. With time and a cold chill gluing him to the bench, his thinking turned to scheming. "Or...it doesn't have to be a bed ya' know..."

Slowly, Hannah raised her head from Angus' arm and raised an eyebrow at him, the smile growing ever wider. "I'm not so sure I do," she said.

The Cheshire held out his hand to her. Like a gentleman. "C'mon, then."

 

After standing, playing, skating, and sitting in a snow blanketed town, the warm water was welcome to embrace him, breathe life again into his numb fingers and toes. It burned, as expected, yet it still found more appeal than shivering on the couch. At length he got used to it, and sat in the bathtub quite content, arms spread along the rim behind him. 

It wasn't a large bathtub by any means, but it was bigger than the one in the main bathroom of his apartment for sure. It was a white clawfoot, curved like a boat on the tile floor. A separate shower stood next to it, various of bottles of shampoo on the other side of the door. The bath was wonderful to sit in, after making sure no previous guests had left anything behind from their visit. Hearing the door knob turn, he quickly turned his attention to it, waiting rather eagerly for his company to arrive. Swiftly closing the door behind her, Hannah locked it, stepping up to the bathtub. Angus wrinkled his nose. "You're not gettin' in with that on, are ya'?" Hannah fiddled with the cord of her bathrobe. 

"Obviously not, but...I didn't want to parade around the hotel room like-that, you know," she said. Angus snorted to himself and shifted so there was room for her to sit down next to him. Instead she stood there, gazing at the water uneasily. 

"What?"

"Um..." Hannah turned red, unsure how to phrase her question. "Would you mind closing your eyes before I get in?" Angus looked at her in disbelief.

"Aw, come on!"

"I'm serious! I'd feel better if I wasn't watched." Angus still looked at her, wondering if he was going to have to bathe with a blindfold from now on. "I'd do the same for you if you asked."

"I'll close my eyes," he agreed, "but as soon as you're in the water I'll have to open them because not watchin' the waves gets me sea sick." He gave her quite the cheeky grin at her eye roll. "I'm not gonna gawk at ya', if that's what you're nervous about.

"Come on, we're all friends."

Hannah nodded, asking Angus once again to close his eyes. He did so, tapping the rim of the tub with his fingers. With shaky hands, Hannah untied the cord of the bathrobe and hung it on the door. One foot after the other, she climbed in the bath and sat down, the water sharp and hot against her cold skin. She had to get used to it. 

Angus opened his eyes, smiling at the welcome company. "Glad of you to join," he said moving his arm off the rim to settle around her shoulders. Hannah held her arms around herself, the flaky patches soothed in the heat of the bath. She rested her head on the young man's shoulder, relaxing as much she could. The heat of the water combined with the comfort of her best friend and husband next to her, her heartbeat slowed down, and her breathing grew quiet and steady. Nuzzling into him, she let the quiet of the room give her imagination room to grow, and before she knew it she was drifting off. 

Angus leaned his head on hers. Keeping as quiet as he could he shifted in the bath so they were both leaning against the back of it. He closed his eyes letting himself get some sleep, only sleep wouldn't come. There's something about sitting up in a bathtub that leaves a knot in your neck. Hannah suddenly moved again, fluttering her eyes open to look at him. She hid her face in his shoulder, yawning a bit, moving her arms to hold him like a teddy bear. "I seem to remember you thinkin' this wasn't a good idea," Angus whispered amused. 

"I can change my mind," she mumbled back. He ran a wet hand through her hair.

"See, this ain't so bad, is it? I ain't so bad. Ya' warm enough?" She sighed, perfectly content to stay where she was. Again. Instead of answering, Hannah's breathing began to sound a little asthmatic, only just slightly. Her inhales were quick, and Angus didn't hear her exhale. "Hey, you alright?" Moving her head away from him as quick as she could, she lifted an arm to sneeze into, scaring Angus into hitting his elbow on the side of the tub. "Damn, you could have warned me next time!" he said nursing his sore elbow. 

With a hand on her nose, Hannah scooped some water with the other hand and poured it over his head, giving him an apologetic kiss on the cheek. "I can't always explain I'm about to sneeze, they come when they want! I am sorry about your elbow though. Are you okay?" She turned her head away when Angus used two hands to pour water all over her head.

"Me? I'm feelin' great, how 'bout yourself?" Hannah splashed the water outside of the tub trying to scoop up the most water her little hands could carry. Angus pushed a wave of water over her, distracting her from winning. Her hands were taken into his, restraining them as he shook his hair out, drops of water spraying everything within radius, especially Hannah. 

The splashing match had left both parties out of breath from laughter and companionship, and soaking wet, the bathroom an absolute bog. A half hour later after Angus started the bath, he pulled the plug from the drain and let the water run away from them, having had enough of their childishness. The only clean towel left under the sink was a brown beach towel, taller than either of them when held upright. Helping Hannah step out of the bathtub, still laughing from Hannah accidentally splashing water into her mouth, he found the towel and let Hannah dry herself off with it. When all was dry save for her hair, the towel changed hands and Angus used most of the other side to dry himself. 

When he finished he put the towel around his shoulders, holding his arms out for a hug. "Come here," he said. "I think you won that little war of ours, ya' think?"

Hannah stepped into his arms, Angus hugging her so the towel encircled the both of them. "After nearly drowning myself, sure. I suppose I could say I bested you." He smiled as she hugged him back. "How's your elbow?"

"Better," he said. "But, ya' know, it'll never be the same after you maimed it with your sneeze, of course."

"It was an accident!"

"Mmhmm, don't doubt that," he laughed to himself, knowing good and well his being smug riled up the girl. Water dripped off his hair onto the floor, a puddle below them from their feet and the tsunami they had created. Letting himself relax in her arms, he continued. "Ya' see now? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She answered by nuzzling into his shoulder again, suddenly feeling chilly from the deprivation of warm water. Any minute the heating to the hotel room would kick on, meaning the sun was going down and the temperatures would drop. The couple was getting hungry as well, their meal at the cafe wearing off. If Hannah thought sneezing in the bath was bad enough, it was high time she ruined a second romantic moment between the two when her stomach announced its hunger. 

Laughing into Angus' shoulder tickled him and he laughed too. "That wasn't me," Hannah mumbled.

"All of Switzerland heard that, Hannah Ruth," he said, grinning at her amusement. Knowing they'd soon have to get dressed and make dinner, he kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes, savoring the moment just a little while longer.


	7. Chapter Seven

With three days left until the couple should return home, they made their way down the street from the bakery, two bags filled with all the pastries they could afford. Spots of lipids soaked the bottoms of the paper bags, sagging a little under the weight of the food. Some had been made hours ago sitting in the cases to cool, while others were hurriedly made that instant, as there were no more left. Hannah took a scone from her bag and indulged on it, looking to her right and seeing Angus scarfing down a miniature doughnut. 

"So much for a healthy breakfast," Hannah said wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

"You're not complain', are ya'?" Some crumbs fell onto his coat and he brushed them off. Hannah shook her head, unable to talk around the scone. 

"Not at all, but if we want strong bones and six packs we're working our way backwards." Angus spit out more than a few crumbs, choking on his food. Hannah clapped him on the back a few times to calm him down, his coughing mixed with laughing. "Are you okay?"

He hit his chest with his fist, trying to cover his mouth from any more food particles falling out. Clearing his throat a few times, he got a hold of himself, and spoke, holding his doughnut away from him before taking another bite. "You're gonna pay for that," he said.

"Why? What was so funny?" Angus shook his head, unable to answer as a loud siren drowned out even his thoughts. Exchanging looks, the two carried their heavy bags, placing their uneaten pastries back inside and walked down the snowy sidewalk while the sirens continued to get louder. Some voices shouted over the commotion, most in French, yet none in English. Two patrol cars parked themselves beside a crowd of gawkers, all straining their necks to see over what happened behind the police tape. 

One of the buildings standing on the corner of the next block was on fire. Black smoke billowed out against the white sky, while flames of oranges and reds poured out of the windows like a dragon's tongue. Hoards of people came rushing out the front door, splitting into two groups as a couple of firemen ran the opposite direction, looking for any people who failed to get out. The building itself was old, some sort of a bank perhaps. Upper windows shattered as a bomb of fire exploded on the third floor. Glass rained on anyone below it, the crowds now struggling to get to the safe side of the police tape. 

A fireman ran out of the building carrying a petite woman in his arms, setting her down as soon as they reached the sidewalk. She stumbled to the street, coughing, streaks of black marking her skin. A few people came to her aid, helping her cross the empty street through the snow, letting her sit down on the curb, and giving her water. 

Another fireman retreated from the truck and entered the building with an axe, coming to the aid of the radio call he received. Jets of water attacked the fire from the hoses, two of them going at once. Another woman and a man were escorted out of the building, both well enough to stand on their own and run to safety. Another window shattered, more glass hitting the snow, glittering in the light. 

Angus took Hannah's hand and backed up on the sidewalk, putting a good distance between them and the fire. Hannah stumbled after him, unable to look away from the scene. Her feet were frozen to the ground, her heart frozen in her chest. "We ought to go a different way, alright? Hannah?" She didn't respond to him; she didn't hear him. "Hannah? You okay?"

Her frame was shaking. Her eyes were glued to the smoke imitating the pearly clouds in the sky, like an evil twin. Keeping her arms straight at her sides, she took a few steps backward, drowning out everything but the scene in front of her. 

"Hannah, come on, we'll go a different way, we don't have to stay to watch this. You alright?" Finally getting a second of eye contact from her, he embraced her from behind, gently pulling her away from the chaos. 

She wrapped her own arms around herself, feeling the slightest bit of pain from the scars. 

 

The chair wobbled as he sat down, his hand taking the cigarette from his teeth. His doughnut was gone, a macaroon now lay half eaten on a napkin on the table. Running a hand over his face, his fingers laced through his hair, a few curls falling over his eyes. They moved when a sigh escaped his lips, eyes staring down at the paper bag with the rest of the food. Hannah's bag was next to it. She didn't feel so hungry anymore.

Their bedroom door was still closed, most likely locked as well. Despite reaching the safety of their hotel room, all Hannah saw was smoke. Flames. Blackened flesh. Stuttering her words, she excused herself to the sanctity of the bedroom, Angus taking to the kitchen table. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes and thirty seven seconds. 

He thought about knocking on the door, checking if she was okay. But if she hadn't emerged in fifteen minutes and thirty seven seconds, she likely wouldn't answer the door. Leaving the food on the table, he took his cigarette with him to the living room couch and sat down. There was an ashtray on the coffee table anyway. 

With three days left until they took a flight home, Angus figured she wouldn't want to keep to herself the whole time, but...the look on her face said otherwise. Never had the sight of a fire scared her so much. Never had the sight of smoke...Angus took the ashtray from the coffee table and set it on the side table next to him, away from sight if Hannah should open the bedroom door. Her reaction to smoke had never been witnessed ever since he'd started smoking away from her, concerning for her health. He had no idea...

After twenty two minutes, forty six seconds, and checking his watch several times, the doorknob turned, Hannah slowly walking out. Angus set his cigarette on the ashtray, sitting up on the couch. "Hey, you doin' okay?" She didn't answer at first, looking at him instead. 

"Uh...yeah, I suppose so," she answered rubbing her wrist. Taking her eyes away from his didn't faze him. His couldn't turn away. "Is my food still on the table?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting completely still, waiting for her to take a step. "I didn't eat much either, you can take whatever you want." Only looking at the table rather than moving, she fiddled her hands together, her fingers making their way up her arm and scratching. Angus held his own arms out. "Hey, come here a minute."

She didn't move right away. He patiently waited, holding his arms out for her, finally letting them rest on his lap. Thinking it over enough, she walked in his direction, immediately feeling warmer sitting on his lap, resting in his embrace. 

Angus leaned back on the couch, coughing into his hand, and encircling her waist with his arms. Freeing her own arms, she held them up to herself, resting against his chest, his heart beating against her palm. She could have sworn she felt it speed up, and she'd be lying if hers was at a resting rate. Bending her head down to nuzzle against his neck was difficult, but she was stubborn. Fire and smoke may not have left her mind, but it had finally left her vision, letting the sight of Angus distract her.

One hand of his ran through her hair, tangling it around then smoothing it back. The other was given to her, to hold and fixate upon. Tiny fingers were gripped by even tinier fingers; trimmed nails tracing along the lines of his palm. Being so close in proximity, Hannah took a moment to take in his appearance. 

His hair was slightly mussed from stress, constantly falling in front of his eyes. The eyes in question were bright against the faded circles underneath them, shadowed by long lashes. He sniffed through his nose a few times, as if he was catching something. He coughed again, drawing attention to his lips. She had never really noticed them before, as her eyes were always closed whenever she enjoyed them. 

As difficult as it was to form a coherent sentence, she longed to tell him how much she appreciated him. How much she enjoyed his company. Tightening her hold on his hand might inform him enough, yet she still longed to let him know. Opening her mouth to speak, the words wouldn't leave. Only lingering on her tongue long enough to get Angus' attention, his eyes staring into hers. "What is it?"

She closed her mouth. Embracing his neck, she nuzzled into him again, closing her eyes to hold on to the memory of his face, looking at her with complete care. Locking the image into her mind to drive the scene of the fire away for good. Angus' free hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"You sure?" he asked. "Do I have a bug in my teeth?" He held her still as her laughter shook the fear from her. "Take a look then, do I?"

She giggled into his shoulder, avoiding the sight of his teeth bared before her, allowing her to look for the phantom bug. Pressing his lips to her hair, he let out a laugh himself, grinning against it. After a few minutes she quieted down, left to her own thoughts again. Once in a while the thick smoke clouded her mind, flashes of the burnt skin and scared reactions showing through. Her frame shook again, the laughter long gone. 

"Here now, what's goin' on, hmm?" Angus asked leaning away to look at her. Two small fists gripped his shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. Just to make sure he didn't disappear as quick as her joy had. Angus wasn't worried about the wrinkles, but the wet spot growing on his shoulder was enough to evoke another question. "Hey, hey, c'mon. What's done this to ya'?" No answer. "Was it somethin' I did?" Her grip around his neck tightened, letting him know he wasn't to blame. "Was...was it the fire?" 

"..."

Her sleeves rolled up, a few red marks freshly scratched coming to light. Angus swallowed. "Was...is it-Travis?"

She sniffed, feeling bad for leaving such a mess on his nice shirt. Glass shattered over every word of comfort, people screaming adding to the mix. Finally prying herself away from his warmth, she wiped her eyes and nose, Angus helping by gently pressing a tissue he grabbed from the coffee table against her. Given a minute to compose a thought, she answered his question. 

"I'm still so scared..."

 

Getting tired of being woken up by a snoozing alarm clock, Susan shut it off and closed her eyes from the bright warm sunshine creeping through the blinds. Her dreams were plentiful that night. Some of her kids at home, most about going into labor early, and delivering another boy. Either a boy or a girl would have been fine she supposed, but she was counting on luck to find those receipts for the little dresses she bought should her dream come true. 

Plenty of her dreams involved a man too. Not Victor, as she expected, rather Angus and their days at school together. Scenarios of the two walking from class to class, talking as if they had been friends. It cut to them being older, around the age they were now. Sitting on a couch somewhere, catching up on the days of old. He was smiling, they both were of course, it being a warm summer day and no serious plans or deadlines. He must have made a joke of some sort, as the dream ended with both laughing up quite a racket. 

She felt her face grow hot from thinking of him so much, and acknowledging it. Squinting from the sun and too few hours of sleep, she stretched herself out on the bed, and pulled herself to standing. 

The couple's bed wasn't without its faults, but it did a pregnant woman okay. Small though it was it allowed her to sleep on her side without too much pressure on the baby. Her back could use a good massage however. Grabbing her robe off the bedpost and slipping it on, leaving it untied, she stepped into her slippers and made her way to the kitchen. 

Angus was definitely a tea drinker. The coffee pot hadn't been touched in months, while the kettle stood on the front burner of the stove at all times. Hannah seemed to prefer tea as well, with twice as many mugs in the cupboard than one man needed. She picked a small white one, and got to work on making the coffee. Thankfully there was a bit of decaf on the shelf, or else she would have to make do with a glass of orange juice.

Black and bitter to the taste, she rummaged the pantry for a bit of sugar. Finding none, she left the pot where it was and searched the fridge for some orange juice. 

Neither Angus nor Hannah seemed to be all too fond of that particular beverage.

Settling on a glass of water, she took a few drinks before setting it down on the table and heading back to the pantry where Hermione's food was. The little cup was in the bag, food scooped up and taken to her hutch. She was asleep, lying on her side, breathing heavily. Tufts of fur surrounded her, bits of shavings along with it. Susan opened the door and poured the food in the bowl, making sure the door was locked when she was done. 

Hermione didn't move.

Susan's gaze lingered for a minute before heading to the front door to check for a newspaper. Holding her back, she bent down to pick it up and carried it to the table. The rubber band snapped off and she unrolled it, glad for something to read to go with her water. A few job listings here and there and plenty of advertisements. She smiled upon seeing the letters AC/DC at the top of a column on the third page. Their new album "Highway to Hell" had been doing quite well, Mr. Davy Junior, a music critic, thinking so too. There was a picture to the side of it, one taken a few months ago in the city. 

Water quenched her sudden thirst as she felt her face growing hot again, her heart beating quicker upon seeing Angus there. He looked just like he always did, albeit a bit younger while in uniform. He looked no different than the other four men, perhaps a little less sane. She turned the page, getting a paper cut on her thumb. 

She stood up from her chair and eased her way to one of the bathrooms to the medicine cabinet. Finding a bandage wasn't easy among the clutter of painkillers and what looked like vitamins. Covering her thumb she returned to the table, checking on Hermione. 

She still hadn't woken up. 

The rabbit was still breathing yes, but getting up to eat her breakfast seemed to be the last thing on her mind. With the size she was one would think it was the only thing on her mind. Susan opened the door again, reaching a hand in to pet her. Her fur was warm, but much of it had been pulled out of her, a good amount underneath her chubby body. Pine shavings were everywhere, bunched here and scattered there. Hermione's eyes blinked, looking up to sniff the hand petting her. Immediately she lay back down.

Susan examined the hutch, taking in all the details she could if she were to call a vet and give them an account. Hermione could have anything, or could be sick or hurt. Angus had mentioned before they left how Hannah and he had taken her to a rabbit meeting the month before, almost like a dog park, but for rabbits. It was much smaller, and not many other people were there. What if by accident another rabbit injured her, or passed some disease onto her? Susan made her way to the phone book in the living room. A vet would know for sure. 

She grimaced as she cut her thumb again turning the pages, her back continuing to ache.


	8. Chapter Eight

"We'll be back in a few to get our stuff, alright?" The driver held a hand up and turned back to the windshield as Angus closed the car door. All their luggage was still in the back of the car, Angus' extra sweaters shoved again in the tight suitcases. Angus' guitar of course, had the special place of honor on his lap, being picked and played all the way home from the airport. 

He lugged it after him, trying futilely to keep up with Hannah's worried pace, practically knocking down anything that got in her way. Apologizing to anyone he passed in case Hannah had forgotten her manners, he ran several feet behind her up to their apartment. Susan had greeted them at the car as it pulled up, explaining vaguely Hermione's condition. Hannah's beloved Hermione. Anything could have happened to her. What if the two returned from a heavenly honeymoon only to return to the less than bliss state of reality, and mortality?

Kicking the door open after it almost closed on his face, he set his guitar down beside the living room couch and made his way to the hutch. Susan made room for him to see, Hannah leaning rather close as well. Of all possibilities his imagination conjured, he never would have guessed to see what he did. There, among a bed of shavings and fur, along with a soft blanket Susan placed inside for her upon vet recommendation, was Hermione, sniffing and licking away, much smaller than she had been, along with three very small, very wet, and very brown baby bunnies. 

Glancing at Hannah to see her reaction, his heart skipped a beat seeing the smile he missed for so long spread across her face. He looked to Susan, who had been looking at him as well. Turning red she looked away, giving her attention to the new mother in the Young apartment. "Hermione!" Hannah said.

"I called the vet as soon as she started acting funny," Susan explained placing a hand on her back. "He came over and gave me all kinds of instructions, and before I knew it she had three children." Her face turned sour after this comment. "Actually she had four but...one-one didn't make it."

Hannah's smiled dropped as well. "Oh no..." Hannah left the room to search the closet for a small knit blanket they kept on the top shelf. Pulling it down along with some other various blankets, she brought it back to the hutch and placed it over the cage, dimming the light for the babies and giving the new mother some privacy with her children. 

"What did the vet say about that, was it born like that, or..." Angus stopped, unsure of how to word his question. 

"She died minutes after, he said she was born too small and couldn't survive outside very well. But-the other three are okay, and the mother is too," Susan said, trying to pick their spirits up. "One is a boy, and the other two are girls."

Hannah pulled a chair from the kitchen table and sat down, Angus immediately sitting next to her. "I don't understand how this happened," she said putting a hand to her chin. "Who did this to her?"

"You said you took her to a rabbit park, didn't you?" Susan asked.

"For an hour or two, at the most!" Hannah explained. "I never let her out of my sight! Whose tomcat rabbit is responsible for this?" Hannah turned to Angus as if he knew the answer to such mysteries. 

He shrugged and half smiled and said, "Maybe we weren't watching as closely as we thought. Now what I don't understand is how none of knew she wasn't fixed. I mean, we bought her, yeah? An' they never told us or nothin', an' we jus' assumed she was an' all?"

Susan took a seat across from Angus at the table. "That must be where all the weight she gained came from," she said smiling. "I sure know how that feels."

"How've ya' been?" Angus asked.

"Better than most my size, I guess," she said. "Sleeping hasn't been great but that's to be expected. I know I might go into labor any day now and that's kind of daunting to think about." Hannah squeezed Angus' hand that was next to hers and stood from the table. 

"Would you like something to eat or drink for a bit before you go?" she asked. "We'd hate to send you off so quick and it'd be good to catch up." Susan waved her hand.

"You two just got back, I don't want to keep you up if you're tired or anything." This time Angus stood up. 

"Aw come on now, we'd love to have ya' for company. You two can chat for a bit an' I'll go get our stuff from the car."

He turned a bright shade of red as he tripped over his guitar case on his way to the front door, Hannah and Susan snickering behind him. 

 

When he returned he found the two women laughing over a cup of tea, Susan drinking water instead. Neither one noticed his approach, and he kicked the door closed behind him. Stepping around his guitar case, he brought both suitcases to the couch and set them down, rubbing his shoulder afterwards. "You ladies talkin' about me over there?" he asked gaining their attention.

"Unless you were one of the drunk men parading around a few nights ago banging on a trashcan on the head of his friend, then no, we aren't," Susan replied still smiling. "Didn't get much sleep that night, and they finally left around one in the morning."

"Do you know who it was?" Angus asked grabbing a mug from the cupboard. The kettle was still hot. 

"No, I couldn't see from the window, and it was too dark anyway. Could have been someone from out of town, or a neighbor, anyone." Pouring his tea into a mug filled with an inch of milk, he brought it to the table and sat next to Hannah, who pulled a chair out for him. 

"Thanks, sweetheart," he mentioned as he sat down.

"I eventually fell asleep, and they were gone the next morning. I didn't look into it, I couldn't be bothered. As long as they're not hurting anyone."

"Doesn't mean you want a couple a pricks runnin' around keepin' ya' from gettin' any sleep, ya' know?" Angus asked her taking a drink from his cup. She smiled at him, grateful he was still willing to talk to her, let alone stand up for her after all those years. Allowed her to stay at his house while he was gone, sit at his table. She wasn't a nobody to him like she was to Johnny. "God knows I'd have given 'em a word or two."

"They would have been too drunk to mind," Susan said. "It's over and done now anyways." She drank the rest of her water and set it aside, declining when Hannah offered her more. "So how was your trip?"

"Very cold," Hannah said. "I know it's winter and all over there, but I'm not used to the seasons changing all the time. In America it's the same, winter in December. And living there for a while it threw me off when I came back to Australia."

"But it's always warm inside," Angus said. "They make sure their citizens don't turn to snowmen ya' know. The food is pretty good, their desserts anyway." He grinned at Hannah who shrugged sheepishly. 

"Angus and I ate a lot of dessert there," she said. "It must have been really warm in that building, the bank or whatever it was. It was on fire." Susan gasped, looking to both of them for an explanation. 

"Dunno what started it," Angus said. "We uh, we got out of the way pretty quick, not wantin' to be around all that, ya' know." He looked at Hannah who played with the her wedding ring. Angus found it gave her comfort to look at it and feel it, making sure it was real, and not the ring Travis gave her. "Was pretty bad."

"Oh my goodness," Susan said. "Was anybody hurt?" Angus answered, seeing Hannah not too eager to reply.

"Not too bad, that we saw anyway," he said. "People were hurt yeah, but we don't think anyone died or nothin'."

"That's good. Sounds like it's been busy for all of us." She looked toward the hutch where the blanket hung. "Even Hermione."

At the mention of her beloved rabbit, Hannah snapped out of her trance and walked toward the hutch, pulling the blanket away from one side, allowing the three humans to peer inside and see a mother with her new children. Angus snickered to himself at the sudden thought in his head. "You're a grandma, sweetheart."

Hannah turned around with some snark in her voice. "Speak for yourself, Pops, she's your rabbit too."

Angus hummed to himself. "How do you like that? Ya' go off for a honeymoon an' you come back with grandchildren."

Susan turned to him. "Are you gonna name them?"

"Not even sure we're gonna keep 'em," he said standing up from his spot to get a closer look. He coughed into his hand a few times, raising it when asked if he was okay. "This place doesn't like pets, ya' know, an' we have one already. Four is a lot."

"Well if we're gonna give them away we can't pull a stunt like the pet store and not have them fixed and vaccinated and what not," Hannah said. "And Hermione ought to be fixed too so this doesn't happen again. My poor little girl. What if she tried to tell him no?" Angus wrapped an arm lazily around her.

"I don't know as animals really have that idea," he said. "When it's time, it's time, ya' know." Hannah narrowed her eyes at him and the arm around her. 

"Hmmm..."

That second, a third chair scraped the floor and Susan slowly stood up, pushing it back in and walking around the kitchen table. "It's been really good to see you both," she said leaning over to give Hannah a hug. Hannah returned it, albeit confused. 

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"I know, but you two just got back and need some rest, and I've got a child coming to get ready for. It's best if I'm home for that. And with Victor and the family." Hannah stepped aside to allow room for Angus to say his goodbye. Susan hugged him, surprising him yet again with her height. Why were suddenly all his female friends so much taller than him? Angus almost took his arms away until he felt Susan's embrace tighten. She carried a new warmth with her, a new friendliness he'd never seen or felt before. In school she had always brushed him aside for someone else, never giving him a chance to even say hello. Here and now, in this one hug alone, she seemed to apologize for every harsh word or every turn of the head that may have hurt him. Finally she pulled away first, giving him a long, genuine smile. "It's good to see you again, Angus," she said.

"Good to have ya'," he replied. "An' good to have you watch the place, ya' know."

"Thank you, Susan, I know the trip must have been the last thing you wanted to make," Hannah said, apologetically. 

"Like I said, it's been good to be away from taking care of three kids and a husband. Someday you're gonna be in my shoes, and you'll be making trips left and right to get away from it all." Hannah looked down at her shoes, away from the mirthful look of Angus. "My things are already packed, I can just grab them and go."

"Let me help you," Hannah said following Susan into the bedroom. Angus took Susan's water glass and checked Hannah's tea mug. Still having a few drinks left he left it, and set the glass in the sink, washing it out. Angus never thought he'd see the day where Susan Lockhart would spend an entire few weeks at his house, even if he wasn't there with her. In high school he would have wanted nothing more, and would have given Malcolm a smug look whenever he could. Malcolm...It was time he saw his brother again. Time to see the band again. Two weeks taken for vacation and now he had to get back to the studio to record their next album. When Malcolm got married he was beginning to think he wasn't coming back from the honeymoon it took so long to get back to work. Angus couldn't ever get away with that.

Susan and Hannah came out of the bedroom, each holding a suitcase. Angus offered to take them, Susan needing all the help she could get and Hannah being a present lady all the same. She denied his offer, Angus completely okay with it. With a last goodbye, Susan's car parked right at the curb where the previous had been, and her suitcases were placed in the trunk behind her. Hannah was given one last hug, while Angus received a kiss on the cheek. The spot was still warm as the car drove away, Hannah watching it turn around the corner. He smiled. Turning his head to see his new wife standing next to him, his smile grew. It quickly turned into another cough, and a slight headache. "Angus?" He looked at her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he managed. "Got a little sore throat is all, an' a cough to drive a man nuts. It's nothin', I'm fine. Need a little sleep is all."

"The tea isn't keeping you awake?" Hannah asked returning the one arm hug and walking with him back to their room. Angus kicked a rock and coughed again. 

"It might, but I'll try to sleep anyway. Goin' back to the studio tomorrow, ya' know, I need the sleep." He nuzzled her neck, grinning when she laughed. "You need the sleep too, ya' know."

"I'll sleep, after I look after Hermione and the children for a bit," Hannah replied. "I still can't believe someone did that to my rabbit."

"Well ya' know how rabbits are," Angus laughed. "Funny enough. We got a friend over here to watch the place who's havin' a baby any day now an' now our own rabbit had three kids of her own."

"Four," Hannah corrected sadly. Angus nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Everyone's havin' kids around here, next thing we know an' Mal's gonna be havin' a kid." Hannah leaned against him, less than responsive that minute. With everyone around her having children, a mob of people would soon encircle her asking when it was going to be her turn. Being honest with herself, Angus and her had never even talked about it. And thoughts of turning out just like her own mother worried her. Thoughts of being a bad parent and bringing up a child who wanted nothing to do with her frightened her. Having a child alone, being pregnant and all that frightened her. Even her own rabbit was braver than she seemed to be. Angus didn't carry on with the subject and for that she was grateful. She knew he must have wanted children some day. Even as kids themselves he had a soft spot for those younger than them. 

Angus opened the door to the apartment, letting Hannah enter first. The first fresh feeling of home sweet home fell upon the two of them, and they both suddenly felt exhausted. They fell on the couch, Angus stepping around his guitar case again, and cuddled for a minute or two. Any underlying romantic interactions between the two were scared away by Angus' coughing. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Ya' know when you have a cough, an' it gets worse at night, ya' know?" He turned his head away from Hannah, coughing into his arm. His throat burned. Hannah looked at the clock on the wall. 

"It's hardly seven."

"Still." He cleared his throat a few times, and exhaled deeply when he figured he was finished. 

"I thought you were going to get some sleep."

"I am," he said remaining where he was on the couch, eyes closed. "But like you said it's only seven."

"I can make dinner first if you prefer," Hannah suggested standing up. "Anything specific you want?"

"Can you make those foods at that bakery?" he asked opening his eyes to look at her. 

"If I could we'd be eating them all the time," she answered going to the kitchen to wash her hands. Angus stood from the couch and stretched, soon following after. His tea was still on the table and he took it eagerly. "Anything else?"

"Nah, I'm not really that hungry anyway," he said wiping his lips. "Travellin' takes away the appetite as it were."

"Tea will do it too," Hannah said eyeing the cup in Angus' hands. "I guess I'm not too hungry either. Maybe I'll just go to bed too."

Angus took Hannah's tea cup from the table, wordlessly offered it to her, and after a shake of her head, he set both mugs in the sink to wash later. He held his arms out to her. "Come 'ere, I'll give you a lift." Wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a second guessing look, he nodded with reassurance, and she hopped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He stumbled back a few steps, and regained his balance. "There we go, ain't so bad, huh?"

"You sure I'm not too heavy?"

"Please, you're lighter than a feather." Angus wasn't kidding, Hannah really was very light. He understood she was smaller than most women, but it still concerned him. He wanted to make sure she ate enough, knowing Travis would never have allowed it. Suddenly he had the urge to do everything Travis wouldn't, and forget anything he would. "You can have dinner if you want it ya' know, don't let me stop you."

"Really, Angus, I'm not too hungry. I hate planes you know, and travelling makes me ill." He gave her a half smile. 

"Alright then," he spoke softly, and after stealing a few quick kisses from her lips, he began the short trek to the bedroom. "Well my love, off we go."

 

It was two in the morning when Hannah woke up. Darkness covered the entire room, one hardly able to see their hand in front of their face. She blinked rapidly, trying to stay away from the second bout of sleep taking over. Her vision was blurry, her head spinning. Her persistence to fight off the sleep stemmed from a small sound she heard, suddenly anything but small now. Sitting up, she held her head to stop the spinning, trying to concentrate on where the noise was coming from. She turned her head to see Angus, who wasn't there. In his place were a couple of turned over sheets. The sound became clearer with every minute that passed. Hannah could hear a loud yet muffled coughing from the hall, turning into a horrible retching. Turning the sheets over on her side of the bed, she slipped into her slippers, arms around herself. Angus' sweater was a bit large on her, giving her room to move, as Angus put it. She didn't mind, the knit material was enough to fall in love with on its own. 

Upon reaching the hallway the noise grew louder, one of the spare doors closed. It was the main bathroom, and a little light could be seen shining under the door. Hannah knocked quietly, unsure if Angus heard her. The noises behind it implied he couldn't come to the door right that minute, so she felt her way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water. The walk back to the bathroom wasn't as bad, Hannah's eyes having time to adjust to the darkness. She knocked again, receiving no answer. The door wasn't locked, and she opened it. 

Angus was kneeling on the floor, holding his head over the toilet. The retching had lessened, but only some, as his body was shaking, and he didn't look up when the door opened. Hannah closed the door after her, kneeling on the floor next to him with the glass of water in her hands. She placed a hand to his back, using her nails to draw circles of comfort. After a few minutes his throwing up turned to a heavy breathing, and he pushed the handle, grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth with. He turned to see Hannah next to him, offering him the glass. "Drink this," she whispered, brushing his hair away from his face. It was soaked with sweat, and pale as could be. Angus managed a few small sips and gave the glass back, shutting his eyes. Hannah took the glass away, setting it on the floor next to her. He leaned against the wall, still shivering terribly. She gathered him into her arms, letting him rest against her instead of a wall. Putting a hand to his forehead she frowned. He had a fever. "How long have you been up?" 

"An hour," he mumbled. His voice was hoarse and awfully quiet. She hardly heard him. "Maybe two."

"I think you have the flu," she whispered back, pushing his long hair behind his ears. 

"Fuck," Angus muttered. He put a hand to his face and coughed again, looking and sounding miserable. Hannah pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, lingering there for a bit before pulling away. No, his breath didn't smell the best, and maybe it was best she didn't get so close to a sick man. But...she didn't care. Her best friend felt bad enough without having everyone abandon him like a leper. He gazed at her, instantly closing his eyes again from the bright light. A few minutes later he leaned forward again, the sickness taking over his body once again. 

Any hair falling in his face she brushed back. Any shivering or shaking she held still, and any sweating she wiped away. As soon as he was done he wiped his mouth again, and Hannah sat there waiting with the water glass in her hands. Little by little he took a little more, even taking some when he hadn't thrown up. Each time he'd hand the glass back and lean against the wall, she'd give him another little kiss in the same spot. His fever was still awfully high, every inch of skin Hannah could feel burning. She stood up from her spot on the floor and opened the cabinet, grabbing a small blue washcloth. She turned on the sink and doused it in water, sitting back down next to Angus. "Let me see you," she said tilting his head up. He blinked at her, trying to focus on a face he couldn't see. She placed the washcloth on his face, painting it with the cold water. He sighed, seeming to relax under the relief it brought to his fever. He leaned into her, resting his head against her shoulder. After a few minutes of silence, Hannah set the washcloth on the counter and held the glass of water up to him. He took a few sips and cleared his throat. 

"I think I'm done," Angus mumbled, licking his lips. Setting the glass on the counter, Hannah stood up, and held her arms out for him, much like he did for her hours ago. Standing up with Hannah's help, he hugged her waist as she led him out of the bathroom and back down the hall to the bedroom. It was about four in the morning when they finally went back to bed, the black night fading into a light blue. Angus collapsed into bed, shivering again, grasping at the blankets, desperate to cover himself in warmth. Hannah grabbed the glass from the bathroom and placed it on the table next to Angus' side of the bed before climbing in next to him. 

Disregarding the fact that he was sick and likely contagious, she embraced him under the blankets and buried her face in his neck, Angus' heart speeding up at this sudden show of affection. He returned the gesture, eager to stay as warm as possible. "You shouldn't sit so close," he whispered kissing her forehead. "You could get sick too."

"I don't care about that now, I'll worry about it later," she said pulling the blankets up so he was covered. Fighting to stay awake just a few minutes longer, Angus yawned, then coughed a few times, his eyes fluttering. 

"Thanks for stayin' up with me," he said, his voice as hoarse as ever. "You didn't have to."

"In sickness and in health," she responded moving his hair away again. Angus helped, tucking his curls behind his ear. "I'll call Malcolm tomorrow and tell him. You ought to stay home and rest."

Angus didn't argue. He lost his battle against sleep, and answered only with long, steady breathing, his hot breath hitting her skin. A few minutes later Hannah followed after.

 

Mrs. Young answered the doorbell to see Hannah standing outside the door, dribbling a red rubber ball. "Hannah, hello! I wasn't expecting anyone to come over today, you need something?"

"Is Angus home?" Mrs. Young bit her lip and nodded.

"He is home, but he's got a cold worse than an iceberg," she replied. "He doesn't get sick very often but when he does it's all I can do to keep the roof on the house when he sneezes. Did you two have plans today?"

"We were going to the park to play ball, but I can come back some other time," Hannah responded. Mrs. Young shook her head.

"Oh that's alright dear, I'm sure he wouldn't mind a bit of company for a few minutes. He's upstairs in his room, and Malcolm should be home from his band practice soon enough for lunch." Hannah entered the house, finding the stairs quickly and knocking on Angus' door. 

"Come in." Hannah giggled at the most pitiful sounding voice she'd ever heard on the other side. 

She opened the door to see a sort of morgue inside. The window curtain closed, the lights off, and a more dead than alive (according to him) Angus on the bed, lying almost flat with his eyes closed, blankets tucked up to his chin. A bowl of soup sat on the nightstand, steam pouring off of it. 

"Mum, call an ambulance, I think I'm dyin'," Angus said. Hannah turned the light on, Angus opening his eyes. "You?!"

"Good to see you too, Angus," Hannah said dribbling the ball on his floor. He covered his ears at the noise, pulling the blanket over him. 

"Will you please cut that out? I have a headache bigger than Mal's head an' that ball ain't doin' nothin' right for it." Hannah caught the ball from the air, setting it on the floor by his carelessly tossed shoes. Angus sighed from under the blankets. "And turn off that light while you're at it."

Hannah huffed and turned off the light switch. "It doesn't help to sit in the dark, Angus," she said sitting on the edge of his bed. Angus rolled over. 

"It helps me. This cold is gonna kill me."

"You looked dead when I came in the room, how much worse could it possibly be?" Hannah grinned in succeeding at getting Angus to come out from under the covers, even if it was only to frown at her. He retreated back under the covers while Hannah kicked her feet back and forth, too short to reach the ground. 

"What are you doin' here anyway?"

"We were supposed to play ball in the park, remember? But you never showed up. I came over and your mom said you were sick." Angus looked at her from under the blankets.

"That was today?" he asked his voice raising. "Shit, I'm sorry." He sneezed earning a look of disgust from Hannah, which turned to one of sympathy. "I woke up sick as a dog an' forgot all about it."

"It's alright, don't worry about it." He didn't answer to that, still feeling bad. Hannah looked around his bedroom, it being an absolute mess."We could do something else."

"Like what? There's not much to do when you're sick except lay in bed and feel sorry for yourself."

"You can't do that all day," Hannah said. 

"I can and I will." The fourteen year old girl rolled her eyes. 

"We could..." Nothing around his room seemed interesting for both of them, especially someone as sick as Angus pretended to be. "We could read some of your comics."

"I've read them all."

"Oh, well we could...we could watch the television downstairs."

"My dad always likes it on his channels an' gets upset if one of us changes it, and the shows on now are all old westerns," Angus explained. "Besides, the TV doesn't work too good anymore anyways."

Hannah sighed. "Then what do you suggest we do?"Angus glanced at the bowl of soup.

"You could feed me, that might make me feel better." Hannah tickled his neck earning a very real but very hoarse laugh. "Okay, maybe not."

"Anything else?"

"You could persuade Susan Lockhart to show up, come to my room and give me a private 'Get Well Dance'. That would make me feel a lot better," he suggested with a silly grin on his face. Something whacked him where the grin used to be, his nose throbbing. "Ow! A man can have his fantasies, can't he?" He rubbed his nose, feeling he had some drool stuck to his chin. He quickly wiped it off.

"How about something realistic to work with, Young?" Hannah asked setting Angus' pillow back on the bed. He lay down on it holding a hand to his nose where the pillow hit him. 

"How about we just sit here quietly like good friends should. No soup, no television, no lap dances," he muttered. He closed his eyes, keeping very quiet as if he was trying to fall asleep. Hannah crossed her arms and stood from the bed, ready to grab her ball and leave. But...she and Angus were supposed to spend the day together, and it wouldn't be very nice to leave him sick like this. Without saying a word, she pulled the covers back and crawled into bed next to him, stirring him from his peace. She pulled him in for a hug, closing her eyes and relaxing in the warmth of his bed, and, though she'd never admit it, him. Angus looked at her, slightly frowning. "What...are you doin'?"

"Keeping you company," she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Angus felt himself grow hot at their proximity, this being the first time he'd ever had a girl in his bed. Sure, there were a few other lovely women he'd rather have in there with him first, Susan Lockhart in particular, but this was all entirely new to him. And he wasn't gonna complain. 

"Ya' know, my mum is gonna get suspicious if you're up here too long, she wouldn't like us in bed like this." His face grew even hotter after the sentence slipped from his mouth, almost positive the fever had nothing to do with it. 

"Keep quiet, then she won't." Angus wasn't sure it worked that way. Hannah fixed herself into a comfortable position and sighed. "Besides, I'm just doing what a good friend should, there's nothing to be suspicious about," she stated matter of factly. Angus started to rethink the way he worded his sentences. "And we are good friends, aren't we?"

Something in Angus' stomach churned and flipped, and he wasn't sure whether he should feel sick or not. Hannah was his best friend, there was no doubt about that. But something about the way she threw that pair of words back at him was unsettling. He looked down at her, her brown hair sprawled out behind her, down from its usual school ponytail. Her clothes were the kinds normal people wore, but still pressed to perfection. Her lashes fell on her cheeks like butterfly wings, lightly fluttering every now and again. 

There was a girl in his bed. A real girl in his bed.

Wait till Malcolm found out about this.

Smiling because he just couldn't help himself, he leaned in closer relaxing in her warmth as well, smoothing back her hair. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Just good friends..." In minutes he was asleep. 

 

With six hours of sleep in her eyes, Hannah crept around the apartment towards the phone on the coffee table. Hermione tended to her children, licking each of them as they panned for a breakfast of milk. The kettle sat on the stove, Hannah keeping a close eye on it so the shrill noise wouldn't wake Angus. The man was still in bed, sleeping off his sickness from the night before. He hadn't woken up since she first heard him, and she did everything in her power to keep it that way. He looked a lot better, but he still wasn't up to snuff to write songs and be around so many other people. Surely they would understand, especially his brother. Dialing his number, Hannah held the phone to her ear and waited. A voice picked up, one familiar and one she missed so much. "Yeah?"

"Malcolm? Angus won't be able to make it in today. He's sick."


	9. Chapter Nine

"An' my prodigal brother returns," Malcolm said from inside the studio, Angus closing the door behind him. He carried his guitar case with him, setting it down on the floor by Malcolm's. "Took ya' only seven or eight years, eh?"

"Still not as long as you," Angus said grabbing a Styrofoam cup by the coffee machine and turning it on. 

"You got sick?" Malcolm asked, Angus confirming it. "How'd that happen?"

"You tell me, one minute I'm fine the next I'm dyin'." He turned the machine off and took his cup with him to the small couch to the side of the equipment. Phil's drum set stood a few feet away, marked by two microphone stands without any microphones. Bon's motorcycle was parked out front, the man himself gone to get breakfast for everyone. Angus agreed, finally ready to try some real food after three days of soup and crackers. Another car pulled up next to Malcolm's, Cliff opening the door and stepping out. 

"I could have given you a ride, ya' know," Malcolm said taking his turn at the coffee machine. "Or Cliff, or Bon..." Angus wrinkled his nose at the thought of taking a motorcycle to work. He knew perfectly well how fast Bon liked to ride motorcycles down the road, even suburban neighborhoods. "You didn't have to go walkin' in the early morning."

"That's alright, Mal, I need the fresh air."

"I could have stayed a bit, an' seen Hannah," Malcolm continued. "I hardly see her anymore, you're keepin' her to yourself." Angus smiled into his cup, wagging his eyebrows. Malcolm checked the amp behind him before he leaned on it. "She doin' okay?"

"She's doin' great, ya' know, seems much better after leavin' Travis, an' America, ya' know. She eats more, an'...talks a lot more."

"She's not...affected? In any way?"

"She's had a couple moments. Bad dreams, ya' know." Malcolm stared at Angus, waiting for him to elaborate, and sighed when he didn't. 

"Where is she now?" Malcolm asked, bringing up the fact that she hadn't come to the studio as well. The doors opened and Cliff walked in. "Hey, Cliff."

"The store, we're almost completely out of food. An' she's goin' to the doctor later today too."

"The doctor?" Cliff set his bass beside the far wall, taking off his jacket and setting it over the back of the couch. Two beer bottles were in his other hand, one handed off to Malcolm. "Thanks. She get sick too? Or..."

"You know those burns she had? They're almost gone but she says they've been itchin' her for a while, an' she's been scratchin' 'em, ya' know? So she's goin' to the doctor to get a lotion or somethin' so they'll get better." Cliff twisted the cap off his bottle and took a few drinks. 

"Hannah's not comin'?" he asked as Angus shook his head. "That's too bad, kinda miss the little kid."

Angus took the cup away from his lips and wiped his mouth. "Speakin' of kids, Hermione had some last night." Malcolm frowned, trying to put the pieces together. 

"She had kids?" Angus nodded. "She wasn't fixed or nothin'?" A shake of the head. "An' Roger Rabbit jus' came up an' introduced himself, what happened?"

"Took Hermione to some rabbit park an' we looked away for two point five seconds." Cliff couldn't help the laugh. Malcolm finished his coffee, getting started on the beer. 

"An' she jus' had them last night?" Cliff asked. 

"A few days ago, right before we got back an' Susan was there to see it." Angus stood from the couch with his cup to get more coffee. 

"How many did she have?"

"Three. Well, no, she had four but...I guess it died right after it was born an' the vet took care of it." The door opened again, with Bon carrying a large paper bag from McDonald's. "We'll have to think of what to do with 'em an' get Hermione fixed."

The bag was set on the table a little less gently than the men would have liked, Cliff peering inside the bag to make sure the food wasn't helter skelter. Taking a few samples for himself, he pushed the bag aside for everyone else to find theirs. "Hey, Bon, Angus jus' had grandchildren," he said to the man, who skipped the coffee machine and headed right for the mini fridge. 

"That's great," he muttered looking for something. Pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels half full from the last session, he closed the fridge and took a drink, pausing to ask, "Grandchildren?"

"Hermione had some kids a few nights ago," Angus explained, Bon's confusion wearing down. 

"Ah, that makes a bit more sense," he said standing by the wall to lean on it. "So...you have fun on your honeymoon?" he asked cutting straight to the point.

Angus set the paper bag down after getting his food from it, Malcolm the next to take it. "We had a great time," he said. "Lots of snow, felt nice."

"Bet it did," Bon muttered under his breath with a grin. "Switzerland, right?"

"Yeah," Angus said. "I kinda like the snow they have up there, like home."

"And then you got sick when you came back," Malcolm reminded. Bon looked at them.

"You're not still sick, are ya'?"

"Nah," Angus said. He cleared his throat anyway, earning some suspicious looks. "I'm feelin' tip top today, no flu anymore."

"Until one of us gets sick," Cliff said his mouth full of French fries. "We'll never get this album done."

"Sure we will, how far are we?" Malcolm asked. He grabbed a couple of papers sitting under the bag of food while chewing thoughtfully. Thumbing through the papers he looked to Bon. "Bon! Have you written much since last week?" Bon took his drink with him to the couch and sat down next to Angus, Angus catching some air. 

"Not on paper," Bon said taking one of Cliff's fries.

"There's some right there!"

"I don't want to eat yet," Bon said.

"Well paws off mine, then." Cliff took another bite, keeping his food out of Bon's reach. 

"Do we need to start lockin' you in the kitchen again till you write some more?" Malcolm eyed Bon.

"Find a kitchen, mate, an' go ahead. I'll jus' break right out again."

"Maybe you can find your own food while you're in there," Cliff said. Malcolm set the papers down and sighed, standing up to take his guitar from his case. Tuning it up a bit, he looked at the doors then around the room. 

"We won't get this album done if Phil don't start showin' up, where is he?"

"Gettin' a haircut," Bon stated. 

"Haircut?"

"Yeah, met him on the way here. He'll be here in a while."

"Alright," Malcolm sighed. "Ang, get your guitar, an' Cliff, start swingin' bass. We'll play what we can for now, alright?"

 

Meanwhile, at the grocery store, Hannah hopped behind the cart she pushed, searching the shelves and trying to get a better look. Angus was never fond of her doing this, saying she might trip and get hurt. But she hadn't yet, and he never stopped her. And since he wasn't here...

Grabbing a box of noodles she turned the cart to look down the next aisle where the malted milk balls were. There were other kinds of candy too among the shelves, but malted milk balls were her favorite. Smarties were there too, and Hannah sneaked a few packages to take home as well. 

Grocery shopping was quite the event for Hannah. Travis always got the food, and hardly spent a dime he didn't have to. Most of it was for him anyway, despite all the money Hannah had earned. Her last payment had been made the month before, and she took every cent with her to the store to pay for food. Angus asked if she wanted to split some of his money as well, but Hannah always declined, abstaining unless they really needed the extra money. 

There was freedom too. Freedom to leave the house and explore the town. There was color to her skin again. 

More of that same skin however, had turned an ugly red color, due to her scratching at the scars. Hannah promised Angus she'd visit a doctor that day while she was gone to get something prescribed for it, and maybe alleviate the pain that came with it. 

Grabbing some loaves of bread and blocks of cheese, she found herself in the vegetable aisle. There were two others there with her, so she put her hopping to a stop, and pushed the cart normally. One shopper was a tall man, with slightly greying hair and birthmark on his arm showing from his tank top. The other, was a woman about his age, probably a girlfriend as neither had a wedding ring. They didn't look like siblings. She had short red hair, cut awfully short by someone rather unprofessional, leaving split ends here and there. Hannah paid them no mind, and attempted to block out their conversation while she grabbed some broccoli. 

"We can't afford five carrots, one costs a whole five dollars, are you crazy?" the man spoke, rather loudly for an empty grocery store at that. 

"We'd be able to if you hadn't spent so much on cigarettes and wine last week," the woman replied, as if this conversation was routine. "The guys weren't even over that long, and you bought all those chips just for a thirty minute game."

"We needed food for the party, Melissa," the man replied. "Why do we need truckloads of carrots?" Hannah's head faced the other way, unable to tell if the man said "truckloads" or something else. "Huh? Why do we need so many carrots?"

"Because they're good for you, you don't every buy anything good to eat," Melissa said, getting awfully annoyed at her companion. 

"You hardly get out of the house to shop at all, I'm the one who has to do it, so I buy what I like!"

"We can afford a few carrots, Jim, it's fine."

"Shut up," Jim mumbled. Melissa's tone wasn't friendly.

"What?"

"Nothin'," Jim said changing his mind. Hannah turned her head to get to a different side of the aisle, pushing her cart around the brussels sprouts. Did they need brussels sprouts? No, Angus would say no. 

"No, you said something, what did you say?"

"Nothin'! I didn't say nothin'!" Melissa rolled her eyes to the annoyance of Jim, who lightly pushed her. Melissa pushed him back, lighting into him. Hannah couldn't hear much what they said, their voices melding into one loud yell. Someone cried out, Hannah turning her head over to see Melissa holding her cheek, staring up at an exasperated Jim. Her heart almost stopped. Something told her to move, get away from the scene as quick as she could, but her feet wouldn't move. Her chest tightened. "What'd you expect, you're driving me up the wall!"

Melissa didn't answer, instead kept a hand to her surely stinging cheek. Jim surveyed the various foods, once in a while looking at his hurt companion. Neither one noticed Hannah standing there, the young woman finally snapping out of her trance and wheeling her cart to the next aisle. Holding her hand over her mouth, she inhaled sharply, attempting to get her breathing under control. 

They had enough vegetables anyway.

 

"Ang, the A's out, tune it!" Malcolm continued playing his guitar, strumming along with Phil's drumbeat while Angus plucked away, using one hand to tune the A string, yet hitting every fret all the same. His feet knocked the floor, one two, one two, his hair brushing past his shoulders and hitting his face, blinding him to every movement, yet he still knew. He just knew. Where to go, where to pluck. The guitar guided him throughout the studio, telling him every move in a sort of spiritual connection. "Good, keep it goin'," Malcolm encouraged.

Bon stood by the wall, listening to the tune the boys played, rummaging around his mind for the words to the song. Nodding his head, he paced the room, kicking his boot along the floor. Cliff stood one foot on the couch, keeping time with everyone else. Bringing the song to a close, Angus dropped to his knees, scraping them against the ground, strumming on his guitar the concluding chords. With one last jump, the song ended, every last one of them covered in sweat. Bon was too, though none of it was his. 

"Not bad," Bon said, taking a drink from his bottle. "What uh...what title ought it be given, hmm?"

"Don't know yet," Malcolm said grabbing his beer from the top of the fridge. "You got any ideas?"

"I need a bit of time, yeah? Time an' whiskey, ya' know. I'm goin' on a walk." 

"Bon, we've jus' started!" Malcolm said. 

"I've gotta sit on it a while, I'll come back with somethin' to knock the shit outta you like, yeah?" With a boyish grin and a dainty wave, Bon walked out the front doors taking his bottle with him. Malcolm watched the door swing shut and shook his head. 

"God knows where he's goin' or if he's comin' back. C'mon, Ang, strum the first couple bars again." Angus began again, just as energetic as the first time. Malcolm started in, glancing at Phil. "Phil, c'mon, Cliff, pick up." All four were playing at once, each perfectly in sync with each other. The whole studio seemed to come alive when the band entered, and part of its spirit left whenever the boys called it a day. Taking a drink of his beer, Malcolm quickly resumed playing the song, nodding his head. Angus was on the floor again, spinning on the floor as if his amplifier blew a fuse and electrocuted him. 

Moments like these were the ones the boys lived for.

 

"Just put it on twice a day, once in the morning, and again at night," the doctor said scribbling something on a clipboard. Hannah tried to see what he was writing so quickly, but the doctor turned his back for confidentiality. The bottle wasn't big, just enough for the couple of months the doctor had prescribed it. Truth be told he'd never seen a case like hers, and it made them both nervous. Insisting it was just a skin irritation from the cigar, a story Hannah dreaded to recount, he gave her the common lotion to help soothe any itching and to take the redness away. Glad to try something and not be sent away, Hannah thanked him and left. "And I'm real sorry that happened to you," he added last minute. Hannah half smiled. 

She was too.

The walk home wasn't unpleasant. The weather was fair, albeit a little warm and the groceries had been taken home and stored before she went out again so there was nothing heavy to carry. Though her mind kept reverting back to the scene at the store, playing it over and over again.

Angus would never hurt her like that. With the numerous promises he made her over the months, he never raised a hand against her. Hardly ever raised his voice unless a record was on maximum volume. Perhaps as the years went by things would change, and not for the better. 

Turning the key Angus gave her a whole year ago, she opened the door and closed it again, almost slamming it in her hurry. She hadn't realized she was in such a rush. Hermione looked up to see what the noise was, quickly tending to her now much furry children. One had wandered away from the group, looking through the bars, wrinkling his nose. Hannah hadn't named them, but perhaps even if she did Angus might not remember them. He had only just figured out "Hermione". 

Naming them might not be the best choice. Once you name something, you get attached to it, and soon enough they'd have to let the little children go. After they received proper care, of course. Taking the new loaf of wheat bread she bought from the fridge, she began to make herself a peanut butter sandwich to get her mind off things. 

No, Angus would never hit you. 

Angus loves you.

But even good people get upset, and he has plenty to be upset about. 

No, he'd never hit you.

Never.

Maybe.

No. 

Never...

 

"How many of those have you had?"

Malcolm's eyes darted to the left of him, taking one last drink and setting the bottle down. "Do you think I've been fuckin' countin'?"

"No," Angus shot back. "but it shouldn't be hard to tell between one or four." Malcolm took another quick drink and took his guitar off from around him. Angus watched him, his guitar now back in its case on the opposite end of the room, a third cup of coffee in his hands. 

"I'm handlin' it like I said I would, I haven't had more than I can take. Get after Bon or someone, drinkin' a whole bottle by himself."

"Bon's not here," Angus said, sitting on the couch next to him. "Bon's not my brother, Bon didn't come to my house drunk off his arse unable to stand." Malcolm stood up, taking his guitar back to its case and closing it. 

"That was a year ago, an' one of these days Bon's gonna come knockin' at your door too, drunk off his arse. An' needin' a place to sleep. God, maybe Cliff'll do it, or Phil. Or maybe you'll have a bit too much one day." Malcolm stared down at his brother, that one inch difference now suddenly rather intimidating. Angus glared right back, unwilling to step down. Cliff looked up at the silent match between the Youngs, tossing his bass over his shoulder and holding the door open for Phil who carried a broken bass drum outside. After a minute of nothing more than silent threats, Malcolm's eyes softened at his younger brother's. "Don't worry so much about me, I'm doin' fine. It's yourself you gotta look out for, ya' know? I saw you fallin' behind on the third song, gettin' a bit distracted, are we?"

Angus threw his cup away and picked up his instrument. "Not really," he dismissed. "Hannah's goin' to the doctor today for her arms ya' know, an' despite all that she's not been gettin' a lot of sleep, ya' know."

Malcolm followed after Cliff, holding the door open for Angus, who shut off the lights before they left. "What, the bad dreams?"

"Yeah, they're gettin' worse."

"Christ, Ang, why didn't you tell me?" Angus shrugged, following Malcolm to his car. Malcolm opened the trunk and stuck his guitar inside, closing it, then leaning against it crossing his arms. "Here, I can give ya' a ride, we'll go see her together."

"Nah, it's alright. We got Christmas comin' up, ya' know. We goin' to see Mum an' Dad?"

"Yeah, in two days." Malcolm stared at his brother who nodded. "Ang come on, I'll take ya' home. I want to see her." Angus glanced at the bottle in Malcolm's hand. Malcolm look at it and set it on the trunk. "You've drivin' with me before when I've had way more, ya' know."

"It ain't that." Angus adjusted the case in his hand. "Ya' know, I think she'd like that. The three of us again."

Malcolm smiled and turned around, opening up the trunk again. Angus set his instrument beside Malcolm's, and Malcolm closed the door, setting the bottle back down again. "Hey, uh, how's the married life?" Angus shrugged.

"Good, fine. I like it fine," he answered. Malcolm grinned at him, happy the day finally came when his eight year old plans were made worth it. "Hannah's real nice, if I had to pick, I'd pick her."

"Have you two, uh...sealed the deal yet? So to speak?" Angus put his hands in his pockets. 

"One step at a time, Mal. Ya' know, I don't think she's quite ready for that step jus' yet."

"You're gonna wait then?" Angus nodded while Malcolm shrugged. "Alright then, I tell ya' have more willpower than I."

"Hell, you couldn't make it to the hotel quick enough," Angus agreed wrinkling his nose, but smiling all the same. "You bringin' Linda for Christmas?"

"No shit, Ang," Malcolm said. "An' Stevie won't be there, jus' lettin' ya' know." Angus frowned. "Still in rehab as it were, ya' know." The confusion Angus displayed quickly vanished as he realized Malcolm wasn't talking about their nephew. "George an' Harry though, they want to see Mum again, an' eat her food."

"Where's Harry's mum?"

"Not as close as ours," Malcolm said. "Alright, get your arse in the car an' let's get goin'." Angus took to the passenger seat while Malcolm sat behind the wheel, turning it on. After both men rolled down their windows to let in some fresh Aussie air, Malcolm stepped on the gas. With a quick lurch backward, something crashed on the ground behind them, shattering into a million pieces. "Shit," Malcolm muttered, switching gears and driving off, Angus laughing in his seat. Leaving the broken beer bottle and Bon's motorcycle behind them. 

 

"You're gettin' strong, darlin', puttin' Ang in his place?" Malcolm asked, nearly choking from the bear hug. Angus rolled his eyes as he stirred the tomato sauce, the planned upon amount now doubled as Malcolm decided to stay for dinner while Linda visited her mother out of town for Christmas. Hannah didn't answer right away, as she was much too interested in seeing the closest man she had to a brother again since her wedding. Malcolm hugged her back, picking her up a little. "Good to see ya' again, how've ya' been?"

"I've been better," she admitted, still refusing to let go. "But I could be a lot worse too."

"I guess I could say the same," Malcolm said, easing his way out of her grip. "Ah ah, there we go." He narrowed his eyes. "Have you gotten taller?"

"No," Hannah said looking down at her socked feet. "I don't think so."

"Huh. Maybe I'm seein' things." He grinned at her ruffling her hair. "It's good to see ya', I missed ya'." 

"I missed you too," Hannah said going in for a second hug, and surely not the last before he left that evening.

"The whole band missed ya', you should have come in today."

"I don't want to get in your way or anything, and I had to go shopping and go to the doctor and all that." Malcolm let her go, looking down at her arms. Her sweater sleeves were long, but rolled up. 

"How'd that go?"

"He gave me a lotion for burns," she explained pointing to a bottle on the counter. "It's supposed to help the healing process and stop the itching." Angus saw the bottle from his spot by the stove. There wasn't much, and it didn't look too special. But if the professional said it would help, he was fine with it. He turned the stove off and set the pot on a different burner. Another pot adjacent to it still had on its lid, kept hot for dinner. 

"The food is done, you can get some now," Angus said moving aside for the other two. Malcolm let Hannah go first, insisting "Ladies first", to which he offered the same line to his brother. "Up yours, Mal."

"Alright, I'll go. He took a plate after Hannah and waited for her to get all her food. When he saw how much she had taken, he looked surprised. "I'm not rushin' you, am I?"

"No, of course not," she replied setting her plate on the table. Malcolm grabbed the tongs and put a good amount of food on his plate. 

"You want more than that? I can wait a minute longer." Hannah's eyes turned downwards in a sort of frown.

"It's fine, Mal, I really shouldn't eat any more than this," she said, her voice more stern than she probably meant. "I'm fine."

"But you haven't-"

"Mal..." Angus tapped him and shook his head, motioning him to continue getting his food. With another look at Hannah's awfully small plate and awfully small self, he grabbed the ladle for the sauce and poured it on. He and Angus shared a glance, both keeping awfully quiet. When all three were seated, it was a few minutes before someone spoke again. "Love," Angus said getting Hannah's attention. "We're goin' to our mum's place for Christmas in a couple days..." Hannah didn't answer. "Mal's goin', George an' Stevie, you met Stevie, right?"

"Your nephew?" Both men nodded. "At the wedding for a bit."

"An' Linda's comin' over too, and so will Margaret," Malcolm added. "An' Harry. A big Christmas party for all of us, we'll spend one night, an' then come back here, an' then the band's goin' to Queensland to celebrate again. That sound fun?" Hannah chewed her spaghetti thoughtfully. 

"Will we all fit in that house?" she asked.

"Sure," Malcolm said, eager to talk to her again without upsetting her. "You remember it, all those rooms upstairs?" He licked his fork and took another bite. "We'll fit. An' you an' Ang will share, an' Linda an' I...Margaret..."

"Eh...everyone else can fight over the basement," Angus said with a grin, taking a bite. "I heard from Dad they did it up a little bit so it looks more like a room...you could fit a few people down there. We'll have a lot of fun."

"And...we're going to Queensland too?"

"Yeah, jus' the band an' you, an' Linda an' Cliff was sayin' he was bringin' Georgeanne, ya' know," Malcolm said. "His girlfriend," he added. 

"Sounds like fun. You all taking some time off work?"

"There lies the issue," Malcolm said. "Yes, to answer your question we won't be goin' to work for a couple more days, puttin' off the new album, which is music to Bon's ears as he still has yet to write the words for the four music pieces we have." Angus stood up from the table, grabbing three glasses from the cabinet and filling them in the sink. "Oh, thanks, Ang. I mean, the album probably wouldn't be out till next year anyway, but it'd be nice if we could be halfway done by that time, ya' know?"

"Still not sure what to call it," Angus said. "None of the songs have titles yet anyway so we can't use any of those."

"You feel up to comin'?" Malcolm asked fixing his attention to Hannah. She took a few sips of water then answered.

"Yeah, sounds like fun." She smiled, eating the last bit of food on her plate. Malcolm looked down at it, wondering if she were to get up and get more. When she didn't, he dropped the notion and smiled back at her. "If Angus feels like going, that is."

"Don't worry about me, I'm healthy as a horse now. I jus' hope you don't get sick."

"I'll be okay, if I haven't gotten sick by now, I'm probably fine."

"You had a flu bug, Angus? How'd you say that happened again?"

"I don't know, probably from Swiss snow," he said shivering. "It was really cold there, haven't felt that since our European tours. Especially Copenhagen."

"Eat some more, then you'll stay warmer," Malcolm said. He glanced at Hannah, who to his relief didn't seem to think anything of his comment. He picked up his glass and plate and brought them to the sink, Hannah following suit. "Well I'd better be off, then, it was good to see you guys."

"Saw you at work, Mal," Angus said thinking he was being funny.

"I meant at the same time," Malcolm retorted. "We'll be seein' a lot of each other soon, won't we?"

He stumbled back a step as Hannah attacked him with another hug, seeming to have completely forgotten their dispute before dinner. Surprised but not displeased, he hugged her back resting his chin on her head. Malcolm was right. It was good to have the three of them, just the three of them together again. Even if only for an hour or two. Angus set to doing the dishes, not wanting to disturb the two friends. 

Hannah finally pulled away first, smiling at him. "It's good to see you," she said. Malcolm ruffled her hair again, turning to give Angus a hug. 

"Hey, don't get soap on my shirt," he said backing up.

'An' don't get any hair in my sink," Angus replied. Clicking his tongue and patting Hannah on the shoulder he made his way to the front door, stopping when he realized he forgot something. 

"Oh, where's your rabbit?" Angus motioned his head toward the hutch, while Hannah took his hand and showed him Hermione. Her three children had taken to wandering outside the blanket and exploring the rest of their space, while Hermione herself was busy keeping them clean. "That's sweet," Malcolm said, then returned to his quest for the front door. "See ya' tomorrow then?"

"See ya', Mal," Angus said over his shoulder. 

"You'll be at the studio tomorrow, Hannah, won't ya'?" he asked hopefully. He grinned when she nodded her head and left with one last goodbye. It was quiet after he was gone, except for the running tap water. Watching Hermione bathe her children and deciding to let them rest for the night, she placed the towel over the top of the hutch again. Angus started scrubbing the last plate when a pair of arms embraced him and a head rested on his shoulder. 

"You alright, love?" he asked. She didn't answer, much preferring to bask in the warmth of his closeness and the sweater he'd worn all day. "A few more minutes, sweetheart, I'm almost done." She stayed quiet. "Your day go okay?" Still nothing. "You get enough to eat?"

"..."

He set the last plate on the towel and turned the sink off. As soon as his hands were dried he took a look at her. "What is it? Somethin' botherin' you?"

In her tired state the couple at the grocery store haunted her memory. Her arms ached and itched, a sudden fear of the man she was with bore down upon her. She took a sudden step back, holding her hands to her chest, avoiding those eyes. 

"Hey, what's wrong? Somethin' happened, didn't it?" She turned her eyes away from him, unable to speak again. Angus frowned, lowering his head to look at her face. His lips were inches from her cheek, speaking softly in her ear. "What is it?"

He waited with baited breath as she sighed, finally glancing into his eyes. Wordlessly she stepped into his arms again, Angus wrapping them around her. Her nose pressed against his neck, her breath hitting his skin in small intervals. Her hands gripped the front of his sweater, almost afraid he'd vanish if she let go. He gently rocked her a little bit, embracing her in a little home inside a home that she hand chosen. His left hand supported her back while his right ran through her hair, smoothing out the mess Malcolm left. Her silence unnerved him, but having her return to him after whatever phantom scared her, he couldn't penetrate the calmness with words. Some water had lingered on his left hand, soon standing out against the dry, and he reached for the counter to grab the rag towel.

One second of separation startled the young woman, and with a gasp she clung to him tighter, holding him in place. "Alright, alright, I'm right here, alright? I ain't goin' anywhere, calm down," he soothed, returning his hand to its spot, letting the water dry on its own. "I'm right here."

She didn't ever answer him, hardly opening her mouth at all except for her moment of fright. Leaning closer not only rang his promise true, but allowed him to whisper instead of talk. Forgetting about her appointment, forgetting about her light dinner, and taking her silent fears to heart, he stood there with her, minute by minute until she calmed down, marked by the grip on his shirt lessening. Lips gracing her cheek once or twice, he hummed a bit, knowing she preferred sound of his voice over any song.

Angus won't hurt you.

"You doin' alright, sweetheart?"

Angus loves you.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, I'm right here."

Never...


	10. Chapter Ten

"There she is! We were gettin' worried," Cliff said, smiling at the couple. Hannah stepped into the studio room, enchanted by its setup. Sure she'd made a visit before, though she only stayed inside long enough to greet the band before setting off on her own for the day. Setting off for the independence she craved. 

Bon stepped forward, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "That can't be the little lady I see," he said trying to get a smile from her. "Was afraid Angus locked ya' away or somethin'." Ignoring the face Angus made him, Bon stepped behind Hannah, putting an arm over her shoulder to bring her further inside the building. "Good to see ya, we were jus' gettin' started."

"Bon! Need your help in the sound room!" someone shouted down the hallway. 

"Ah, sorry 'bout that, little miss, I'd better go see what the warden wants," Bon said dropping his arm and disappearing down the hallway. Angus dropped his coat on the sofa and took Hannah's off her shoulders. 

"This is it, you remember," Angus said looking the large room over. "They pack us in like sardines usually but this one is better."

"The one in London was the worst," Phil said, in the process of replacing the old bass drum with a new one. "Couldn't get my damn drums through the front door an' when I asked someone what I was supposed to do when we left, we had to screw open a window for the bass ya' know," he said, keeping Hannah up to speed. "he shrugged. Said it was my business to deal with, an' he had nothin' to do with it."

"I never had a problem," Angus said, stretching himself out on the sofa with the coats placed on the armrest. 

"I didn't either, my drums did. An' now my old bass broke an' I spent half the night trackin' down a new one." He tested the skin out, hoping it wasn't too loose or too tight. It was too loose. He sighed an expletive, and continued tampering with it. 

"You wanna see the rest of the place, love?" Angus asked standing up. She followed him out of the main room to a hallway, where one door was wide open. Inside, Malcolm was standing by a control board holding a wire in his hand. Someone was under an open section of the board, jean covered legs and boot covered feet sticking out. Another wire was in his hands, being pulled behind the board and pushed into various outlets.

"Try that," Bon said staying where he was until he got an answer. Malcolm still holding his wire flipped a few switches on the board, no signs of life from the speakers behind him. "Anything?"

"No, number four and eight are still out," Malcolm commented looking it over. "I don't get it, it's like someone came in last night an' messed everything up. Hannah, good to see ya!" Hannah gave him a polite wave, watching with interest. "Don't mind us, we're jus' fixin' a few things here."

"Little lady? Ya' there?" Bon called out from his position on the floor. "Yeah, don't mind me, I'm used to bein' caught like this." Angus giggled to himself while Hannah let out a whole laugh and a half. "Is Angus up there with you? Tell him to get in here with me an' check somethin'."

"I can hear ya'," Angus said dropping to the floor and scooting himself to where Bon was. "What is it?"

"Is this little blue cord plugged in straight, my old man eyes can't see shit down here like," Bon said as kindly as he could. Angus squirmed where he was, trying to get a good look. "You see it anywhere?"

"This one?" He lightly tugged on a long, pale blue wire sticking out from the back of the control board, dangling behind the table. "It looks like it, what's it connected to?"

"Number three-no four, four, that's it."

"An' four's not workin'?" Bon coughed from the dust falling into his mouth. 

"No, it's not." He watched Angus' hands fiddle with the cord, pulling it one way, then another, grabbing a different cord and plugging it in. "A little too cozy under here, ain't it?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Angus said moving off of Bon, the older man spitting hair out of his mouth. "This fuckin' cord won't stay put in number five an' I think six and seven are switched."

Malcolm sighed from where he stood. "Do you need me to come take a look?"

"No, we got it," Angus answered, several cords behind the table now loosely swaying. "Ah, fuck." Bon laughed. 

"Alright, one of ya' out, let me have a go," Malcolm said setting the cord down. Bon slid out from under the table before Angus could, giving Malcolm room to work. "What the hell have ya' done back here, Angus?" he asked exasperated. 

"I'm tryin' to fix the damn thing, you got wires crossed an' fuses blowin'-"

"It was workin' fine until you messed it up, only two of them were wrecked," Malcolm griped, sighing at the lack of distance between him and the man he was irked at. Bon shook out his massive hair, standing where Hannah was by the door. 

"You wanna have a turn under the table?" he asked with a grin. 

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be too useful," Hannah said. "I know how to change a tire but not a thing about studios."

"You can change a tire, huh? You'll have to come with us on a road trip sometime, we could use that expertise. Course we all know how as well, I guess. How 'bout Christmas, surely you're comin' with us?" Bon asked.

"I believe so, day after tomorrow?"

"That's the one. You'll have a ball you will. Ya' know we don't always have affairs like this but this one-this one's special," he said, simply grinning from ear to ear like he was crazy. Four out of the five of the band acknowledged this as well. He sat on a nearby table with only a Yamaha keyboard on it and swung his legs, making room for Hannah to sit next to him. His legs were a bit longer than hers. "How 'bout your job, how's that goin' then?"

"Fuck!" Malcolm yelled. "Sorry," he said right afterwards. The two on the table laughed, picking up their conversation again. 

"It's alright, I've had a bit of writer's block recently. And one article was three whole pages worth. Only paid me for two though." Bon frowned.

"That's not right," he said. "You wrote three, they ought to pay you for three."

"It was just a two page job," Hannah explained. "I went a little overboard as it were." Bon started kicking his foot against Hannah's, the two beginning a little soccer match without the ball. 

"Where is this place you work for, I'm gonna head down an' give 'em a little talkin' to," he said. 

"Thank you, but it's fine," Hannah laughed. "I'd rather keep my job if it's alright with you."

"You'd never lose it if I was down there, ya' jus' gotta sleep with-ahem-charm the right people, ya' know?" He laughed to himself at the disgusted look Hannah gave him. Amused, but disgusted. "If you say so."

"Ya' got it?" Angus asked, watching Malcolm pull and plug in, then unplug and switch around again. One red cord was plugged in, and Malcolm sighed. 

"I think so. Bon? Ya' still there?"

Bon jumped off the table landing squarely on his feet. "Whatcha need?"

"Turn on the board, switch on four an' eight." Bon walked to the board to try it out. "If this doesn't work I'll eat my hands."

Whistling like a young boy, Bon scoped the board out for the correct switches. He switched four on, then eight. Leaning over the panel he turned the volume up on both, hearing the result come out of the speakers. "It's workin'," he called.

"Thank fuck," Malcolm said scooting his way out. Angus followed suit, the both of them disheveled and antsy. "Alright, this good to go then?"

"I don't see anything else wrong with it," Bon said looking it over once more. 

"Did you try all of 'em?" Malcolm asked switching the others on. Cliff came from the main room to check on everyone. 

"Here you all are, Phil's jus' got the drum fixed."

"An' we got the sound board workin' again," Bon said making his way to where the instruments were down the hall.

"We?" Malcolm asked following behind him. "My hips an' back say different." The argument continued down the hall getting fainter and fainter, Cliff following after them. Angus double checked everything in case their haste led them to overlook something, then took Hannah by the hand. 

"Come on, we gotta get playin'."

 

After three hours of practicing the songs they had and thinking up new ones, the five men had spread themselves all over the room, Angus strumming his guitar in a chair in the corner, Bon with his papers and a pencil in the hallway while Cliff tuned his bass on the sofa, Phil and Malcolm playing cards on the floor. Hannah excused herself to go to the bathroom; one of the doors in the hallway. It was always open ajar if vacant, and this time it was. A pencil and some papers littered the floor, though Bon was nowhere to be seen, and Hannah knocked just to make sure he didn't forget to close it. 

While nowhere near the toilet itself, Bon was surely in there, using a screwdriver at the window over the sink. He had climbed on top of it, unscrewing the pane off, or at least, attempted to. Hearing a noise he turned around, grinning when he saw Hannah. "Hey there, little lady. Am I interruptin' your toilet time here?"

"I think it's the other way around," Hannah said staring at the man. With a small grunt of labor, Bon pried the window off and handed it to Hannah, who set it on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" He stuck one leg out the window, easing his way out the small hole, then hauling the other leg through. Before letting go, he he wagged his hand at her. "Come on, follow me."

"Where are you going?"

"Wherever the wind takes me, now are you comin' or what?" Hannah looked behind her, the door slightly open, a bit of talking coming from down the hall. "Here, go on an' do your business, I'll keep the motor runnin'."

After doing what she came in for, closing and locking the door, Hannah eased her way onto the sink, staring out of the open window. Bon stood below her, hands in his pockets. Looking up, he saw her and waved. "You comin'?"

The ground was a bit farther than Hannah would have liked. Swallowing her fear, she turned around on the sink, standing backwards, and shuffled her right foot out first. Bon noticed her trouble and stood underneath her. "Here, I'll catch you." 

The sides of the window pierced her skin, her arms shaking as she yanked her left foot through. Two arms grabbed her waist and gently pulled her down, setting her on the grass below. "There ya' go," Bon said. He took a seat next to her, waiting for her to fix herself up. "You alright?"

"I think so," she said holding her chest. Angus' fear of heights must have engraved itself onto her heart, as the distance from the window to the ground had her head spinning. 

"You sure?"

She nodded, catching her breath. Bon stood up, helping Hannah to her feet, holding her still so she wouldn't fall over. "What are you doing?" she asked again. 

"Thought I'd take another walk," he said with the little grin of his that drove his mother nuts. 

"Another one?" Hannah jogged to keep up with the man's long strides. Under the sun his motorcycle sparkled, one helmet hanging from the handle. The bike leaned to the left, showing off its rather large structure, one Hannah hadn't ever seen up close before. Bon took the helmet and gave it to her, throwing one leg over the bike and sitting down. Hannah only turned the helmet over in her hands, unsure if Bon was asking for her help in putting it on. 

"Go on," Bon urged. "I only brought the one, you can use it. I would have brought two if I'd a known I'd have company in the bathroom, ya' know." He smiled again. "Come on, they'll be lookin' for us any minute."

"Is this thing safe?" Hannah asked, eyes looming over the large bike. 

"Out of the five of us I can drive one of these the best," Bon bragged. "Ask your husband, he took a little drive with me on your wedding day."

"I heard," Hannah said. Looking at the vehicle with still more hesitance, Bon glanced back and forth from her to the studio. 

"You comin' or what?"

"Won't they hear the motorcycle going?"

"You think they can catch up to it if they do?" he asked in return. "Come on, don't ya' want to have just a little bit of adventure? Ya' don't have to travel the world for it, it could be right in your backyard, ya' know?" The front doors to the studio didn't open, and Bon wouldn't change his mind. Looking back once more thinking they ought to tell the boys where they were going, then realizing Bon probably pulled stunts like this all the time, she placed the helmet on her head. The world before her was a lot darker now. She eased her way up on the bike, Bon making room in front of him. "There ya' go," he said. "Hold the handles now, don't want ya' flyin' off."

"Flying off?" Hannah asked, turning her head. Ignoring her, he started the engine, it being much louder than Hannah anticipated. She grabbed the handles, her knuckles turning white with a face to match. Surely Angus didn't have a good time riding with one of these thi-

The bike roared down the road before Hannah could finish her thought.

 

Coasting to a stop, lurching a bit, and finally killing the engine. Hannah's ears were ringing. Without the helmet the wind would have been sifted through her hair, sprouting in all different directions. Bon got off the motorcycle and took the helmet off her head, setting it back on the handle. 

Hannah pulled the pink sleeves of her sweater down, her arms still a slight red from the burns. The itching had stopped, but stress related skin afflictions due to hazardous first time motorcycle rides were bound to happen. Helping her off the bike, Bon laughed, holding her still so she wouldn't lose balance. "You alright then?"

"Fine, fine, a little motion sick but alright," she answered, holding to the handle for support. Bon's laughter died down, genuine concern on his face. 

"Hey, you're not gonna get sick, are ya'?"

"Just lean over and your hair can catch it." Bon didn't reply, still a little concerned for his companion, who looked up at him with a playful grin. The man's face soon matched her own.

"You're real funny," he said pocketing his hands and leading the way down the sidewalk. Another sunny day, with a crystal blue sky and golden sunshine giving color and life to the flowers planted along the path. Beside them was a park, filled with children out of school and parents tagging along to watch them. One arm wrapped around Hannah's shoulders and a slight breeze blew by the both of them, giving color to the young woman's face. "Great day for a stroll, Mrs. Young, wouldn't you say?"

"Lovely," she agreed taking in the sight. Whatever spur of the moment led Hannah to climbing out of a studio bathroom window and joining the lead singer of a rock and roll band out for a walk, she'd never figure out. But she was glad it caught her in its net. She could have done without the motorcycle though. 

"You're havin' a good time, ain't ya'?"

"Sure I am. But...what are we doing?"

Bon shrugged. "Whatever we feel like." They walked a ways, eyeing the park beside them and the numerous shops and buildings on the rise. "What do you feel like doin'?"

"I didn't know I would be breaking out of the studio today, I didn't make any plans to do anything."

"We don't need any plans, we jus' plan on the go. That's what life's about, right? We ain't gonna live forever ya' know. An' makin' plans is jus' gonna make it rain, if you understand." Hannah turned the words over in her head. 

"I think so..."

"So...what do ya' feel like doin'? 'Cause I feel...like gettin' somethin' to eat. I'm starvin', how 'bout you?" Hannah smiled and nodded her head.

"That sounds good."

 

Angus looked into the sound room, pushing the door open. It was empty, the only sound coming from down the hall by the bathroom, where Phil stood banging on the door, a beer bottle in the other hand. "Bon, come on, ya' think of goin' before you left?"

"Phil, have you seen Hannah anywhere?" Angus asked getting his attention. 

"No, I've been standin' here waitin' for Bon to get his arse out of the bathroom for ten minutes," he said banging on the door again. Angus sighed, leaning against the wall. "Bon! Fuck's sake, you paintin' the Sistine Chapel in there?"

"Are you sure he's in there?"

"His shit's all over the floor over there, see." Phil nodded his head to the mess of papers and a pencil on the floor. He sighed, exasperated. "God, you'd think he could fuckin' answer."

"Maybe he can't," Angus said, showing some concern on his face. Phil took a drink from his bottle despite his condition. 

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe he's...not awake?" Cliff's head poked around the corner, the rest following after him. 

"What's all the noise about?"

"I gotta piss an' Bon's havin' a shit or somethin'," Phil muttered banging on the door again. 

"Cliff, you seen Hannah?" Angus asked. Cliff turned around, then shrugged his shoulders. 

"Not for a while, no. She missin'?"

"I haven't seen her for a while either, gettin' a touch concerned." 

"Bon! Fuck, mate."

"You think maybe he ain't in there, Phil?" Cliff asked trying the door for himself, putting an ear to it to listen. "I can't hear anything."

"So you think maybe somethin' happened?" Angus asked, tapping his heel to the ground. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and a lighter, gunning a stick. 

"Like what?" Cliff asked. Angus shrugged himself, getting a bit antsy.

"Like, he's passed out in there, or drunk off his arse, or he's hurt, a lot of things coulda happened."

"He's not still on that heroin, is he?" Phil asked taking another drink. 

"Not since Mal an' I got a hold of him," Angus answered exhaling the smoke. "Maybe he's tried, but never in front of us."

"Hope nothin's wrong," Cliff said. 

"There you buggers are, what are ya' doin'?" Malcolm asked joining the group by the bathroom.

"I can't get in here, Angus is lookin' for Hannah an' Cliff jus' showed up," Phil explained hitting the door again.

"So that's the noise, eh?" Malcolm asked wincing when Phil's fist met the door. "You see the key anywhere?" Malcolm left for the sound room, Angus following him. 

"Mal, know where Hannah is?"

"Where is she?" Malcolm asked scanning the room. 

"No, I'm askin' if you've seen her."

"Wasn't she with you?" His brother shook his head. "Maybe she's outside or somethin'."

"I think I would have seen her, Mal." Malcolm held his hands up.

"Alright, alright, don't get your boxers in a knot, she can't be far. Now where the hell is that key?"

"Bon? You alright in there?" Cliff asked through the door, knocking again. "Do we need to call someone, or break the door open, or..."

"Hey! Anyone know where the key is?" Malcolm asked stepping out into the hallway. Phil closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, Cliff feeling around his pockets and pulling out a paperclip. With his fingers he bent it into different shapes, pricking his finger once or twice. Angus stood behind Malcolm, smoking off his worries. "That a no?"

"I got it Mal," Cliff said kneeling on the ground by the keyhole. Phil looked over the group eyeing Malcolm.

"Maybe Hannah's in here too," he said. Malcolm frowned, unsure.

"Why would they both be in there?"

"Dunno," Phil said with a satisfied smirk. "I'm not the bathroom expert."

"Mal, she's not-"

"Calm down, Ang, she ain't in there. If Cliff opens that door an' Hannah's on the floor with her mouth foamin' of heroin we're takin' her home, understand?" Angus rolled his eyes.

"You know what I fuckin' meant." Before an argument could start, Cliff shoved the door open and stood up, Phil pushing past and setting his bottle on the sink, unzipping by the toilet. The other three men stepped inside, looking around the very aged and very messy floor, seeing no signs of drugs or other various substances. None recent, anyway. The room had been completely empty, shown by the window pane laying flat on the floor. Cliff picked it up, inspecting the window above the sink. 

"He's busted out," Cliff said. Malcolm climbed on top of the sink, looking through the window, shielding his eyes from the sun. 

"Bike's gone," he sighed, jumping down. Phil zipped himself up and flushed, coming over to wash his hands. "Shit."

"Not this time," Phil joked. "It's not clean by any means, I'll say." Malcolm laughed in spite of himself. "So where'd he go?"

"Who the hell knows? He's busted out again when no one was watchin' an' he took Hannah with him. Shit, shit."

"We need a bell on him or somethin'," Cliff suggested setting the pane down. "If we keep losin' him all the time." Angus kept quiet, knowing in the back of his mind Hannah was with him, doing whatever Bon had in mind to do. A bit annoyed but much relieved the bathroom had been empty when they opened it. Any scenario they conjured up in the hall could have been possible, and it was hard to think about.

"We waitin' for them to come back?" Phil asked grabbing his bottle, looking disappointed it was almost empty. Malcolm bit his lip. 

"I'm not about to get in my car an' drive around lookin' like they're a couple a dogs or somethin'," he said. "Bon's been out an' about before, he knows where to go an' all that. He always comes back, ya' know? Course that don't excuse leavin' work early."

"Bon wouldn't take Hannah that far away, he's not stupid," Cliff said leaving the stark white bathroom, Malcolm following him. "An' if takin' heroin got him in trouble then I can't imagine what takin' Hannah would get him."

 

Bon wiped his fingers on the napkin, watching Hannah drink her water out of the straw. Her plate wasn't much, just a cup of water and french fries. He knew she didn't eat much, but this was something to behold. "You don't talk much, do ya' little lady?" Hannah let go of her cup, setting it down on the table. "Nothin' wrong with that, of course."

"I never have talked much I guess," Hannah said softly, suddenly very conscious of her every action. Bon folded his hands over the table, looking her over, then down at his hands. Hannah's gaze flitted to the window they sat by, watching the people walk down the sidewalk. Her gaze lingered a bit longer when one couple had a dog on a leash in front of them. 

"Must be why Angus likes ya'," he stated, stealing one of Hannah's fries. Hannah looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, of course there's other reasons too but...ya' know." Hannah smiled at his sudden clumsiness, knocking his soda with his hand. "But uh, some talk a lot, ya' know, which isn't bad either, I like girls who talk. Ya' know? I like you though," he added, Hannah now laughing. "Angus is pretty quiet himself, both those Youngs are, ya' know?"

"I think so," she answered taking a french fry. 

"Right, you've known them a lot longer, huh?" She nodded. "Right, right. So, you an' Ang together as kids, or what?"

"No, we hated each other," she said, reminiscing. Bon's eyebrows raised. "Well, I didn't hate him I guess, no. No, I never hated him."

"What made you pick him over Malcolm?" Bon asked, his curiosity one of a cat's. "You were friends with him too, right?" Hannah felt her face grow a little hot at the sudden questions thrown at her. Bon leaned away, waving his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be askin' you this stuff, should I?"

"It's fine," Hannah assured, Bon not looking so sure. "I've just...not really thought about that before. I guess...Malcolm's got that, "protective older brother" thing about him. You know?" Bon looked down at his food. "He's also older and was never in my class. I hung out with him, yeah, but not as much as with Angus. Especially as he left school and all, he wasn't around as much." Bon nodded, Hannah thinking to herself. "I missed him."

"So if the roles were switched you think you would have felt differently?" Hannah sighed, wondering about Bon's choice of conversation. 

"I'm not sure. I still think Mal would have been more like a brother, he's just got that about him. Angus was a bit protective too, now that I think about it. Someone flirted with me a bit one day, after school and Angus told him we had somewhere to be when we didn't." Light filled Hannah's eyes at the memory. Bon smiled as well, stirring his straw in his drink. "Malcolm would usually protect me from things like...whenever Angus and I got into a fight, he'd get mad at him."

"You seem to know a lot about brothers," Bon commented. "You have any at home?"

"No, it was just me and my mom. What about you, any older brothers?"

"Uh...no, no. Younger yes, but not older. Sandy, he kind of...died ya' know. When he was born." Hannah's face fell. "Don't worry about it, I don't."

"I...I didn't know that." 

"Not many people do," Bon answered sitting up in his seat. "I don't usually go around tellin' people stuff like that, ya' know." Hannah looked down at her food, letting the ambiance of the restaurant fill her head. Only to be shaken out of it when Bon lightly knocked on her forehead. "There you are," he smiled. "So tell me little lady. What do you see in Angus then, hmm? The little maniac that he is."

"Well for starters he's a maniac," Hannah said, getting a grin to grace her face once again. "He was my first friend when I moved to Australia...sort of. He cheers me up, makes me laugh, you know. I like his laugh too, now that I think about it."

"His laugh," Bon mused.

"And-and he does this little thing with his thumb, when he's holding a tea mug or something, he won't use the other hand to scratch his nose. He just uses the one holding the mug, and..." She huffed happily to herself. "Of course when we were kids he was just a brute. Picking fights, picking up girls, picking his nose...he still does at least two of those things I guess, but it was incessant back then. But he was honest, and sweet...smelled like chocolate and smoke."

Her attention turned to Bon, who sat laughing in his seat. "I've been around him for a while myself, and I've never noticed his smell," he laughed, getting the girl to pout. "Unless we jus' played a concert or, ya' know, sometimes his hotel room reeks of that chicken he likes so much, ya' know. Maybe I'm jus' used to the smoke, is all."

"You've never kissed him either," Hannah stated, crossing her arms. Bon quit laughing, his lips in a tight smile. 

"No, you're right about that." He reached for another of Hannah's fries, getting a hand of hers to swat him away. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint," he grinned. "So you like his smell, eh?"

"Why am I even telling you any of this?" Hannah asked, realizing their conversation continued to grow rather curious and personal.

"'Cause I asked, an' you were nice enough to answer," Bon replied, crumpling the napkin in his hand. "Aw come on, we're friends, aren't we?"

Narrowing her eyes, Hannah's lips turned upward, reaching across the table to grab the last french fry on Bon's plate before he could stop her. Giving him a smug look, she chewed the fry, realizing he never took it due to how burnt it was. Her smug look disappeared, spitting the fry into her napkin. "Good friends," Hannah nodded, a look of disgust on her face. 

Standing up from the booth, Bon took his wallet out, tossing some money on the table before pocketing it again, then grabbing Hannah around the waist. "Alright, little lady, off on our next stop." The world turned upside down as Bon threw the girl over his shoulder, leaving the booth and stepping out the door, the sunshine hitting his face, Hannah's laughter hitting his ears.

And his heart.

 

"Mal, hand me the string, will ya'?" The string changed hands and Cliff held his bass up with the other hand. "Seems like everything's broken today, huh?"

"As long as they're easy to fix I don't mind," Malcolm said resting on the sofa. "This place goes up in flames then we're fucked." He tossed his head over his shoulder, shaking the hair out of his eyes. "Ang, if you're gonna pace like that can you do it over here? It's hotter than hell in here."

"I'm not pacin'," Angus said taking out his cigarette and throwing it on the floor. He stepped on it, pulling another one out. "You'd jus' think if a man were gonna leave with your company he'd tell you somethin'."

"Come on, Ang, you know Bon never tells us where he goes," Cliff said. 

"It's not jus' him though, I'd tell him if Irene an' I went on a walk, or Silver or-" He waggled his head and continued to, in his words, "not pace". 

"Silver doesn't like any of us much, she'd never agree to it."

"The point is...Bon didn't say shit where he was takin' me on my wedding, an' he had your boxers in knots, Mal."

"He told us," Cliff said with a grin. Phil nodded his head from his spot sitting on top of the mini fridge. "You made it back alright, didn't ya'?"

"In a full body cast, sure," Angus said taking a few drags. 

"We had a wedding at three, an' the groom was on the other side of town. I had reason to worry. See, Ang, you gotta know when to worry an' when to let it work out. We don't have anywhere to be, we have plenty of time. Sun's still up...now if it gets close on to midnight an' they're still not back then we can worry," Malcolm said. "Get over here, bring your guitar. We'll play off each other for a bit."

Angus grabbed his guitar he left on a stand and brought it to the sofa, Malcolm sitting up and taking his own in his lap. 

"Alright, start goin', I'll pick up."

The studio was filled with the sounds of blues that afternoon.

 

"You're a writer."

The young woman nodded. "Yeah, we talked about that this morning."

"Yeah," Bon said walking down the sidewalk. "So you have good judgement on what's good an' what isn't, yeah?"

Great beams of sunlight hit Hannah squarely in her eyes and she blinked. "I guess so, I mean...not with songs or anything, if that's what you mean." Bon's own eyes sparkled. 

"Sort of. See, I write a bit myself, ya' know, poems an' things like that when I got a little time. An' some of those I use for the songs we make, ya' know? Here, let's sit down for a bit." Their direction switched to a bench in the grass, overlooking the park. Bon sat down, fiddling with something in his pocket, pulling his wallet out again, and taking a folded white paper out of it. "Give this a look an' say what you think. Don't hold back or nothin'." Hannah took the paper and unfolded it, running it over her bent knee to remove the creases. Only a line or two was even written, the handwriting as if in an accent. It took a few minutes to read, and she handed it back. 

"It's good. When did you write it?"

"Last night, when I was tryin' to sleep. You ever lay down to sleep an' inspiration picks that time to visit?

"All the time," she answered. 

"Yeah? Well this came to me last night, thought the boys might want a look at it when it's finished ya' know. They got music that might work for this." He leaned back on the bench, spreading his arms out on the back, crossing one foot over his knee. "So whatcha think?"

"It's good," Hannah repeated. 

"I heard that, I mean what else? Ya' like the words or...you think it's too vulgar?"

"Ronald Scott, everything you write is vulgar," she stated making the man laugh. "I like this though, I think it rhymes well."

"See, you gotta be smart to come up with a rhyme like that, ya' know?" he bragged. "I mean, I don't think of myself as any Einstein but I know I ain't slow."

"I think some of the smartest people are the artists," Hannah said handing the piece of paper back. Bon folded it up and placed it back inside his wallet. "My mother wouldn't agree at all, and that's one of the reasons she's so disappointed in me."

"Parents look out for their kids, ya' know?" Bon said. "But even then they don't know everything." Hannah sighed in reply. "Mums love us, most do anyway. My mum wasn't too happy with my choices either, ya' know?"

"Your mom isn't like mine, mine doesn't like too many people." Hannah gave him a once over. "I can't say she'd like you too much either, and she couldn't stand Angus."

"Oh, you're kiddin'," Bon said with exaggeration. "A woman in her thirties not likin' our band, oh, this is a first!" Hannah shook her head with a laugh, "I don't believe this!"

"You know what I mean!"

"Sure I do." The man closed his eyes as another breeze swept over his face, fanning through his hair. "You like me, don't ya'?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"A real one, an honest one, ya' like me?"

"Of course I do. You're my friend."

"That's good to hear." He stayed quiet for a moment. "I'm kind of surprised to be honest. You're a sweet kid, ya' know? An' I ain't as sweet as that. Ya' know? I'm a mongrel."

"No you're not you're a-" She paused to think. "Well, okay, that's a-that's one way to put it. Oh come on, you're a good guy, Bon, you know that."

He switched his crossed legs and folded his arms. "If you say so, little lady." Minutes of silence ticked by, once in a while someone stopping by to talk to Bon, asking for a picture or two. Hannah shied away, cameras and new faces making her nervous. Bon introduced her to a few of them, mostly the ladies for reassurance. They seemed friendlier after that. When less people came up to them, and more daylight faded, they resumed their talk. "You don't like attention, little lady?"

"Not really." Her shoes seemed much more interesting than Bon's gaze at the moment. 

"You hate cameras an' you marry a famous man?"

"That's different, I like him," she explained, forcing herself to look up. No one was around them anymore, but just in case... "I could never be famous. All those pictures and interviews, I'd hate it."

"It's not always a bag of fun," Bon agreed, tilting his head to look at the orange sky. "It gets stressful at times, ya' know. But it's better than a nine to five office job gettin' nothin' out of it. We get to see places an' meet new people, an' I think it's pretty good. It's how we met you, ain't it? Oh, except for your friends of course."

"How do you keep up with it all? Travelling makes me so tired and sick and I'd just be grumpy the entire time."

"You haven't seen grumpy till you see Angus in the mornings," Bon said, holding a finger up. "I guess you have then, huh? Well then you know."

"But how do you do it?" continued Hannah, turning on the bench so she faced him. "With a show every other night and going from one place to the next?" With a tilt of the head, Bon looked at her, deciding how to best answer the question. 

"That, little lady, is why some turn to the evils of this earth," he said, waving the foot on his knee. "Ya' know about that stuff, it keeps ya' awake, an'...turns your teeth yellow."

"I hate drugs." Her nose wrinkled. "Hate 'em, don't tolerate 'em either."

"You an' the Youngs, huh?" The two shared a look, Hannah holding a hand over her eyes to block out the glow dipping under the horizon. "They got after me, ya' know."

"After you?" He nodded. "What do you mean?" The look he gave her was confusing to decipher. Perhaps Hannah wanted it to mean something else, something she wasn't thinking. Because what she was thinking, wasn't anything good. "Bon..."

"Jus' a few times, I haven't touched it since. Well..." He looked at her, not wanting to lie to a sweet friend. "Not a lot anyway."

No reply. She swung her feet from the bench instead, turning her gaze to the ground. A miniature flock of birds escaped a tree behind them, their singing the only sound within five feet. "Oh."

"You're not gonna start hatin' me now, are ya'?"

"Of course not," she said, finally looking at him. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do or what not to do, you're a grown adult. And you're smart, you know what they do to you, you know the effects, I'm not gonna lecture you." Again more silence. "And don't for one second think you're a bad person, Bon. You're not."

Inhaling the air, taking in the last few minutes of sunshine, Bon sat up on the bench and folded his hands, resting his arms on his knees. Hannah yawned, drawing his attention. "You're tired?"

"A little," she shrugged. The wobbly bench shook a little as Bon stood up, holding out his arm. 

"Come on," he said, wrapping the arm around her. "Ang's waitin' for us, let's go." One by one the stars came out in the navy sky, less and less people roaming the streets. More wind, more chill, less color. Bon's bike still leaned by the curb where they left it, the helmet still swinging from the handle. "One of these days, little lady, I'll change my evil ways, ya' know? Don't know when, don't know how, but...one of these days..."

 

"We'll go look up on North an' if they're not there then we'll head up the highway," Malcolm said, standing by his car, the door open. "Hopefully Bon's jus' visitin' friends or somethin'." Angus briskly walked to the passenger side, having just thrown away his empty cigarette box. 

"You can't drive all night lookin', eventually we'll have to call around," Cliff replied heading for his own car. 

"Bon can't be takin' our little group an' distributin' it around every corner of the globe," Malcolm sighed. "He does that enough with himself."

Cliff laughed while Angus set his and Hannah's jackets down in the car. "Can we go Mal?"

"Yeah, we're goin'." Malcolm began climbing into his car when Cliff looked up, Phil at a distance seeing the same thing. 

"Mal, look." Malcolm climbed back out, looking out to the street, Phil jogging up to the group. Behind him, headlight shining right at them, came the loud roar of Bon's motorcycle, driving up to the building. "There they are," Cliff said. Angus closed his side of Malcolm's car door and met up with them, the engine dying down and the bike stopped to a lean. 

With shaky legs, Hannah managed to get off the motorcycle and take the helmet off, her hair slightly messy. The dark world shook a little bit, teetering one way and then the other. Checking her over, Angus held her shoulders, attempting to look in her eyes. "There you are, we were jus' about to come look for you two."

"Got her back safe an' sound, Ang," Bon grinned, scooting forward on the bike and taking the helmet from Hannah. "We had a real wild time, right, little lady?"

"Don't worry, Angus, I'm not buying a motorcycle anytime soon," Hannah assured, resting her dizzy but happy head on his shoulder. He pulled her in for an non-reciprocated hug, kissing her hair. She was warm, almost feverish. Rubbing her back with one hand he used the other hand to pull her closer, glad to see her safe. 

"I won't worry, sweetheart," he replied. "Where'd you go?" This question was directed at Bon.

"Where have you been?" Malcolm asked, coming up to them with Cliff right behind. Phil stood to the side, listening in. "Ya' sneak out the bathroom an' disappear on us or what?"

"I was jus' gettin' to that, Mal," Bon said. "you've got great timing. Hannah an' I went off on a little adventure, if you will, our own little food hunt, stroll by a park an' a talk on a bench." He grinned at them like a little boy, a mischievous little boy taunting his parents. "We had a great time, didn't we?"

Angus looked at her for an answer. "I had fun," she said. "I could use a good sleep and a few saltines though."

"Well, thanks for bringin' her back in one piece, Bon," Malcolm said clapping him on the shoulder. "Though, tellin' us next time would be tip top too."

"That's not my style, Mal, you know that."

"I'm afraid so," he agreed. "Angus, all our stuff in the trunk?"

"Yeah," he replied over his shoulder. 

"Alright, I'm takin' you two home, Hannah, so you won't have to walk. You guys can sit in the back."

He took to the driver's door, giving Cliff, Phil, and Bon a goodnight. Hannah gave Bon one last wave before leaving with Angus, who opened the door for her. Bon waved back with a smile, watched them climb in, then put his helmet on at last and waited until the cars left before he started the engine again. 

Leaning her head against the back seat of the car, Hannah sighed, relieved that the spinning began to slow down. Angus closed the door, taking the jackets Malcolm handed to him from the front. "You have fun, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, we just took a walk around the neighborhood," she replied relaxing into him. His heart jumped in his chest as if he had a huge crush on her, and she was sitting next to him for the first time. Losing himself looking at her, Malcolm starting the car sparked his senses and he jumped in his seat. 

"You alright back there, Hannah?" She didn't answer, choosing Angus' shoulder and neck to fall asleep into instead. Malcolm switched gears and looked behind him. "Anyone out there, Ang?"

Angus turned to check as well, scanning the lot. "I can't see anything, I have no idea."

"Cliff's not out there I can hit?"

"Don't...think so." Backing the car as carefully as he could without killing anyone, Malcolm put it in drive and stole out of the lot into the street on the way home. 

"I'll jus' take ya' to my apartment, alright?" he asked. "Since we're goin' to Mum an' Dad's an' all?"

"Alright," Angus replied, yawning a bit himself. Taking Hannah's coat he turned it over, placing it over her body, tucking it around her. The various movements of the car sent her bouncing in her seat, Angus taking her into his arms to keep her still and preserve her sleep. "Don't wake us up too early, Mal, it's not actually Christmas tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah," Malcolm muttered, turning a corner. "Hey, who's gonna watch your rabbit while we're gone?"

"We asked Mr. Nelson yesterday if he'd do it. He likes small animals ya' know."

"Oh, right. Good ol' Nutjob Nelson. You sure he won't do somethin' wrong?"

"He's only got two days to do it, Mal, we wouldn't have let him watch on our honeymoon."

"He'd burn the place down?"

Angus scoffed. "No. Maybe leave the door open on accident for someone to take our stuff...But he has an apartment of his own, he knows how to run a place."

"If you say so." The conversation dropped until they reached Malcolm's place, Angus dozing off in the backseat of his brother's car. Pulling his feet up, he curled himself around his wife, resting his head on top of hers. Minute by minute, his heart rate slowed down, the image of her slowly fading as his eyes fluttered shut, the last thing he felt being her hot breath on his neck. 

Once again, he fell asleep holding the love of his life.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Fluttering his long lashes against his cheeks, a scene began to unfold in front of him. Voices filled his ears and a yawn filled his throat. The car drove over a few grooves in the road, tossing him back and forth. Malcolm's voice filled the car from the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel, the other holding Linda's hand, who sat next to him. "...back in '68, remember, Ang?" Angus put a hand to his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. 

"Maybe he's still asleep," Linda suggested.

"Nah, I saw his eyes open. Angus? You awake back there?"

"Me," he groaned. "an' the rest of Sydney." He yawned again, slowly sitting up so as not to disturb the girl sleeping next to him. "Where are we?"

"Less than a mile away I think. The road was out a way back an' I had to take a detour." Angus didn't answer, turning his head to see Hannah, her sky blue sweater sleeves covering the little hands balled up by her mouth, a little spot of drool on her chin. Using one hand to wipe it off, he used the other to fix her crooked sky blue hair bow that had been tussled on the drive over. Despite Angus' request to be woken up at a proper time, Malcolm woke everyone up at seven in the morning sharp, his apartment filled with drowsy faces and dirty looks. The group hadn't left until nine, and the drive itself was almost an hour long. It shouldn't have had to, but Malcolm of course had to make a few stops first. To help ease the hassle of travel, Angus suggested Hannah take something before they left, which she did. The medicine knocked her right out, and the result was now drooling in the back of Malcolm's car onto Angus' shoulder. 

"You can't expect your mum to cook everyone dinner, that's a lot of people," Linda told her husband. "I really don't mind helping, I don't want her to have to worry about all of us."

"My mum's a real pistol, ya' know, she probably wouldn't mind cookin' either. If you want to help that's fine, an' Ang an' I can help around, we know where she keeps things an' all that," Malcolm said turning the wheel. "Or we jus' let George do all the work, right, Ang?"

"Mmm, yeah," he agreed sleepily. "But his cookin' might send us to the hospital for Christmas ya' know."

"Him an' Alex," said Malcolm. "Now Margaret, she can cook I'll tell you somethin'."

"Hannah an' I are pretty good in the kitchen," Angus said, resting his chin on his hand. "She makes breakfast an' I make dinner sometimes."

"I guess anyone that wants to help can. I jus' know Mum likes to let her company rest while she works."

"Is that the house there?" Linda asked pointing out Malcolm's window. He followed her gaze.

"That's it, good ol' home." After a minute more of driving, Malcolm pulled his car up to the house, the driveway already filled with two cars. He pulled up behind the black one, one he knew to be George's. "George an' Harry are already here," he stated turning the engine off, pulling his key out. "The other one is probably Stevie's, I'm guessin'. Margaret doesn't own a brown car, does she? Hers is white?"

"I think so, or an off white," Angus sniffed. Hannah had just opened her eyes, adjusting to the light and her new surroundings. "Hey," Angus said, noticing. "Glad you could join us."

"Are we there yet?" Hannah asked, stretching where she sat. Angus' back pressed into the seat as Hannah pushed against him, her feet lifting from the floor to settle on his leg. 

"We jus' got there," Angus answered, putting a hand to the door to steady himself. "You okay over there?" Regaining her posture, she placed a hand to her head, checking that her hair bow hadn't fallen under the seat. Malcolm and Linda had left the car, standing together by the brown car, looking it over. Deciding her stretch was satisfactory, Hannah unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door, Angus doing the same. 

It was a beautiful day. No extravagant Christmas decorations adorned the front lawn, but the house had been freshly painted, and a new mailbox nailed to a post in the ground. Sunlight bounced off it, blinding the mailman every visit. The lawn had been freshly cut, a few flowers planted in the dirt around it. One cloud dotted the sky, hardly touching the sun. 

"She's really spiced the place up," Malcolm noted leading the way. He knocked on the door, then stepped back. "I wonder if Dad put up the mailbox, that looks like his craftsmanship."

Their attention was drawn to the door, which opened to a smiling face."Hi, Mum," Angus and Malcolm both said. 

"My boys, come in, an' bring these lovely women with you," Mrs. Young said stepping aside to grant them entrance. Aside from the new arrangement of furniture in the living room, everything looked exactly the same as it had years ago. Mr. Young sat at his chair smoking while a blond man sat on the couch next to him, also holding a cigarette in one hand while the other leaned on the armrest. 

"...he's a great talker, have you heard him? Anything-boys! You're here early," Mr. Young said sitting up. 

"Wanted to help with the food," Malcolm explained finishing up a hug with his mother. "How've ya' been, Harry?"

"Not bad," Harry smiled, standing up, his accent thick. "George an' I got here about an hour ago, he said he didn't want to hit the traffic on the way through Melbourne. Gets real bad at Christmas."

"We had to take a detour a couple of streets away," Malcolm explained accepting a hug from his father. Mr. Young ruffled his hair, smiling down at him. "Got new cigarettes, Dad?"

"Oh, these aren't new," he said, turning the stick over in his hand. Angus stepped back from his mother, a silly grin on his face from where she kissed him. Mrs. Young grabbed Linda in a rush, gushing over how great she looked, Hannah shyly standing aside. "I started these around '76 or so, tried 'em out when my regulars were out."

"They any good?"

"Yeah, here." Malcolm wrapped his lips around the cigarette offered him by his father and took a drag. With a surprised cough, he nodded his head.

"Bit strong, yeah?"

"How I like 'em," Mr. Young smiled, taking another few puffs. "Angus, come here, son." Angus took to his father's arms, smelling in the scent of smoke and cologne. "Your hair's sure gettin' long."

"I've noticed," Angus replied, feeling the ends sitting on his shoulders. "Was gonna get it cut a few weeks ago but it rained the day of an' I didn't wanna bother, ya' know." His mouth latched on the cigarette as well, taking a drag without a cough. "Mm. One of those old school tastes."

"William, are you feeding my children smokes?" Mrs. Young asked gathering Hannah in her arms. 

"You think they haven't been buyin' their own? I could smell these boys from the driveway," Mr. Young said sitting back down. His wife rolled her eyes, turning back to the small girl, whose head had rested on her shoulder. 

"Hannah love, it's good to see ya'," she laughed, gently rocking her back and forth. "Haven't seen ya' since the wedding but it feels longer." The older woman was so warm, so friendly. The hug was genuine, giving Hannah genuine happiness. She couldn't remember the last time her own mother hugged her. "Angus been good?"

"Why does everyone always assume I haven't?" Angus asked, overhearing her words. "I'm a good boy."

"Yeah, Mum, Angus has been doin' his own laundry an' everything," Malcolm vouched. 

While Mrs. Young held Hannah as long as she wanted, something hard and metal hit the floor of the kitchen. "Shit!"

"George, we have company over!" Mrs. Young scolded over her shoulder.

"Sorry, Mum, dropped your bowl on the floor," he explained from the other room. "Stevie, go take this to Mum an' see if it's good." The younger man stepped out from the kitchen, greeting his family as he headed straight for his great aunt, holding a ceramic bowl, still in one piece. 

"Whatcha need, Stevie?" she asked him. 

"George thinks he added too much salt to this," Stevie said, glancing at the brown mixture. He tilted the bowl in his hands, a thick substance flowing from side to side. "We need an expert's help." Mrs. Young let go of Hannah, who looked up at the bowl. Whatever it was didn't look appetizing to anyone around it. 

"Goodness, what have you two done to it?" the woman asked. 

"George told me to add the extra corn starch, I jus' did as I was asked," Stevie defended, shaking the hair from his eyes. "We need to start over?"

"I'd say so, I'll help you this time. Good to see you again, Hannah, we'll talk more before dinner."

"Hannah," Stevie said, noticing her for the first time. "Good to see you here, thought Ang might leave you behind." Angus rolled his eyes, keeping his lips sealed in a tight smile. A sudden scent of meat and smoke wafted from the kitchen. "That must be George with the chicken. Better go throw this out."

"Why don't we help?" Linda asked, leaving Malcolm's side. "I really don't mind helping, I've cooked for Malcolm for a year now."

"I help!" Malcolm retorted. "I do dishes, ya' know. An' laundry. How do you like that?" He followed her to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

"I'd like it even better if you could fold that laundry," Linda said, grabbing his arms and the two began a synchronized walk, almost too cute to stomach. Mr. Young took Linda's outstretched hand on the way, shaking it with a smile. 

"Good to see ya' Linda, be nice, Mal!" Angus decided he'd better help too, or hear Malcolm gripe about it the rest of the evening. Mr. Young took Hannah's hand too, happy to see another friendly face. "How've you been-Hannah, right?"

"That's right," Hannah smiled.

"Ah, I can never keep track of the names of Angus' girlfriends." Angus sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets while Mr. Young laughed at his own jokes. "I suppose Angus hasn't had too many in the first place, ain't that right, son?"

"Don't you have a cigarette to puff, Dad?" he asked.

"You an' me both, now get in the kitchen, your brother's waitin'. Harry! What were you sayin' my boy?"

The kitchen reeked with the smell of burnt food, smoke swallowing the entire room. A tin slammed on the counter, Mrs. Young shaking her hands and heading for the sink. Washing her hands under the cold water, she shook her head. "You didn't set the timer, George, there's your first problem." Stevie snickered at the word 'first'. "Pull me another from the freezer, I bought three of them for things like this. Stevie, open the window please."

George opened the freezer, squinting from all the smoke. Stevie set his now empty bowl down and climbed on the counter, reaching for the window. "What can we do, Mum?" Malcolm asked, leaning on his wife. 

"You can pull the vegetables from the fridge and get a pot of water started on the stove. Wash 'em, dry 'em, an' cut 'em up an' steam 'em. Hannah, you can help me shuck the corn, and Angus, you can help Stevie make more gravy. The book is in the drawer."

With seven Youngs in the kitchen, it began to get hot and stuffy, and the chicken burning in the trash can with only a small window letting a breeze in didn't allow for much relief. Mrs. Young grabbed a towel from the counter, waving it back and forth to help with the cloud. Harry stepped in the kitchen a few minutes later, shyly looking around. "Anything I can do, Mrs. Young?" She looked over her shoulder, shrugging. 

"I suppose you could open the front door, is William still out there?"

"He fell asleep," the man shrugged himself. "What happened in here, anyway?"

"Oi, Harry!" George called grinning. "Turns out I can't cook!"

"Ah, I can see that," Harry smiled. "Glad this isn't my house." He laughed to himself, seeing Mrs. Young give the two men a cross look. 

George coughed. "Sorry, Mum." After washing the chicken and preparing it the way the book said, with his mother making small adjustments all the while, the new bird was placed in the oven with the little egg timer turned to the correct dash. George wiped his hands on the towel. "Stevie, the gravy lookin' any better?"

Angus stood next to him, stirring in a various ingredient while Stevie held the bowl. "It looks better, smells God awful."

"What did you do?" Harry stretched his neck to see, wrinkling his nose when he got close enough. 

"Exactly what the book said!" Angus looked at the open pages on the counter, checking everything over again. 

"Unless we used expired food that was given to us," Angus said. "it shouldn't smell like this. Mum! We need help."

"Mum, do you want these potatoes with the other vegetables or on their own for the mashed potatoes?" Malcolm asked. 

"Don't use those," she ordered, "those go on their own. I'm coming, Angus. Keep shucking, Hannah." Harry, noticing an empty spot, took it, and picked up a cob to shuck.

"Been a while, stranger," Harry said, announcing his presence. "Haven't seen too much of any of the band, really. I've been livin' in Melbourne for a few years now, an' got invited for Christmas. We won't be leavin' until New Year's Eve, an' then we're headin' to Adelaide for a bit. George knows some big names down there, ya' know. Want to get more experience out of the music business ya' know." Another collection of corn husks was taken from the counter and set in the trash can, Hannah returning to their talk. 

"You've helped AC/DC make albums, haven't you?" she asked.

"A little bit," he shrugged. "Nothin' to brag about, an' George did most of the work anyway. He's a good bass player you know."

"I heard my name," George said washing his hands for the umpteenth time that day by order of his mother. 

"Just saying you played bass well," Harry explained, making room for George to sit. George pulled a chair out and grabbed a cob. "Ladies loved him, men loved him, even my old Nanny."

George pulled the leaves off, getting the hair stuck to his fingers. "I liked her too. Didn't like that red lipstick she wore as it always ended up on my face, but I like her well enough on her own." He shook the mess off her hands, sighing at the fact he'd have to wash them again. 

"Mum, we need your help again."

"We need her help first, Mal!"

"Let Mum breathe a bit, boys!" George yelled behind him. "Poor woman," he muttered.

"Ah, shove off it, George, you're the one burnin' the whole fuckin' house down with your cookin'," Malcolm yelled back. The older Young laughed when Malcolm lowered his head at the choice scoldings their mother dealt him at his poor choice of words. 

"Buggers," he said shaking his head. "You ain't stayin' here long, Hannah, are ya'?"

"Uh no, the band's going to Queensland tomorrow for the holiday, Linda and I are going too."

"Queensland, eh? Never said anything about that, jus' said they were goin' to a beach." George watched his mother help his little brothers with the food, Stevie's clean white shirt now stained with brown, Angus listening to Mrs. Young talk about her methods against those of the book. Malcolm started an engaging conversation with Linda, the two taking a break while the vegetables cooked. "Must be Sunshine coast, haven't been there in years. You ever been there, Hannah?"

"Not once," she said. "Travis didn't like to travel, and even the Oregon coast was too far for him."

"Real shame," George said. "Well, a first time is better than a never, yeah? You'll like it in summer, it's real nice over there." Hannah reached for another cob of corn when she saw they had all been peeled and placed in a large yellow pile. "Everyone stayin' in the same hotel?"

"I think so. Different rooms obviously."

"Sure, sure. I think I got a bit of corn under my nail." George picked at his hands giving himself a hangnail. "I jus' got these cut yesterday!"

"George! Would you check the chicken now?" Mrs. Young called. 

"It's not gonna be done for another few hours," George replied, his thumb in his mouth.

"It needs to be checked every once in a while, or the pan needs to be turned." He sighed, standing up from the table and heading for the oven. Malcolm stepped out of his way, holding the pot over the strainer Linda had. 

"Don't splash me," George warned.

"Don't burn us to charcoal," Malcolm replied dryly. With the open window blowing the foul smell away from the house, a new wave of good smelling food took its place, putting the family into a much better mood. Their attention was momentarily taken by a knock at the door, Mr. Young suddenly sitting up in his chair from the noise.

"Someone's here!" he called sleepily from the living room.

"Can you answer it dear, I've got two young men over here getting a lesson in gravy making," Mrs. Young called back. Mr. Young stood up, pausing a minute to run over his wife's words.

"Gravy making?" he muttered walking to the door. "Hello? Oh, sweetheart, you're here!"

"I got here as soon as I could, Sam dropped me off."

"What's that you got there?" Mr. Young asked, gesturing to a foil covered tin.

"I made a lamb the night before, just finished it this morning. I hope that's alright?"

"Oh, that's perfectly fine, we don't mind a little extra food. The boys have been cookin' a bit themselves, an' George burned the bird." He took a few puffs from his cigarette. 

"Oh dear, I better get down there. Would you hold this, Daddy?" Mr. Young took the lamb and stepped aside, opening the door a little wider. 

"Who is it?" Mrs. Young called, her mouth turning upwards at the sight of her only daughter. A blue dress, white bonnet, arms akimbo, and a determined look in her eyes. "Margaret, it's so good to see you, come here!"

The two hugged, Angus, Malcolm, and George getting in line to hug their tiny, older sister. "Good to see ya', Marg, you come here by yourself?"

"I had Sam drop me off, he's staying home today," she answered removing her bonnet. She let Malcolm go, using her hand to fix the collar on his shirt and dust him off. "How's your posture been, Mal?"

"Straight as a question mark," he said, his words melting into a laugh. Margaret gave him a side eye, turning to George.

"George, come here, I hardly ever see you anymore." Mr. Young came in at that time, carrying the tin with him. Mrs. Young saw it, taking it from him. 

"What is this?"

"Oh, that's a lamb I made," Margaret answered loosening her grip. "I brought it for today in case we needed more food, and I like to cook."

"It smells great, Maggie, we'll pair it with the chicken." Mrs. Young set it on the table, right in the center to make room for the silverware. The table was long, it had to be for all the food, and not to mention the guests. It had been polished that morning, laden with brand new white napkins. Some crochet coasters were placed down as well, each tied with a pink ribbon on one end. Angus took his eyes away from the display when his sister took the breath out of him with a hug. 

"You've gotten so tall, Angus!" she said, barely reaching his height herself.

"Funny," he muttered with a smile, hugging her back. He stepped aside to let her talk to Linda, the two taking to the table to catch up on all the news and future events, pausing to take Hannah into the conversation. 

"Are you nervous about the flight, love?"

"Always am," Hannah replied with a shrug. "But when you marry a musician, you can't help it."

"It's no different from flyin' through the states," Malcolm said taking a seat on Linda's lap at the table. Forgetting all manners at the moment, he reached across the table lifting the foil and ripping off a piece of the lamb. "Only an hour or so."

"And everyone...needs a vacation...once in a while, Malcolm! Do you mind?" Margaret asked, appalled at her brother's lack of patience. He wiped his fingers and raised his palms upward.

"What?"

"Leave the food well enough alone, I hear the house almost burned down before I got here."

"Hey, hey, hey, that was George that did it, not me," Malcolm defended. "An' a man's gotta eat! It's your cookin' versus ours, an' I'd rather have that lamb, ya' know." He reached for another piece before Margaret swatted his hand away, leaving a red mark. He shook away the sting. "Hey!"

"You can wait until dinner like the rest of us, Malcolm, and that's that." Margaret stood from the table setting her bonnet next to her lamb. "I'd better get this kitchen straightened out before the lot of you mush the carrots and burn the corn."

"Come off it, Marg, we're not that bad at cookin'!" As soon as Malcolm turned his head back around, he heard his nephew getting scolded by George for dropping the pot holder in the sink, which happened to be filled with water. "That was an accident," he shrugged, taking another piece of the lamb. 

"Don't listen to her, Mal, you can cook just fine," Linda said patting him on the back. 

"Right, George is the one havin' a trouble. Here, try this." In his hand was another piece of lamb, Linda opening her mouth for him to feed her. 

"It's good," she chewed. "Really good."

"Want some, Hannah?" He gave her a glance when a few seconds went by and she still hadn't answered. "Hannah?"

"You alright, dear?" Linda asked, reaching across the table to take her hand. The young woman hardly moved, her eyes still fixed on the wooden carvings of the table. A fingernail scratched against the grooves, eventually settling under her chin to rest. 

"This ain't about the plane, is it?" Malcolm asked, hoping to get some word out of her. 

"No, nothing like that. Well, yes, but-" Hannah shook her head. "I've just been feeling a little funny is all."

"Funny?" Hannah didn't like the frown on Malcolm's face or the look of concern on Linda's. "What kind of funny?"

"Just...funny."

"Sick funny, laughing funny, eerie funny..."

"None, I guess," Hannah decided. She then decided it wasn't important and waved her hand. "It's nothing, really, I think I'm just excited about the holidays, is all." Malcolm and Linda weren't so sure.

"Ya' sure? 'Cause if it's the plane trip-"

"I promise," Hannah smiled, taking her hand from under Linda's and punching him on the arm. "I'm fine."

Malcolm punched her in return. "I don't believe a word."

"And why not?"

"You've never been the type to share your feelings, ya' know? An' here we are again, you wavin' us off." He straightened himself on his wife's lap, Linda's arms around his waist. Malcolm's arms were crossed, but his face slightly amused. "You don't wanna talk-" He shrugged. "fine." He pointed a finger at her smug little face. "But I know you better than that, believe me, darl-"

Malcolm's words were cut off when a piece of lamb got caught in his teeth. Hannah took a napkin to wipe her fingers and stood up. Linda laughed to herself, brushing away the excess meat that had fallen off. With a stance straight and tall, a smile on her lips, and her hands on her hips, she said, "Excuse me, Malcolm, I have some food to cook." And turned on her heel to enter the kitchen. 

 

"Easy on the lamb, Malcolm," Mrs. Young warned, seeing her son pile his plate with the stuff. Setting the tin down he gave his sister a wink. 

"Margaret's a good cook, what can I say?"

"You want any of my chicken, Mal?" George offered, seeing how most of it went to his father and Angus. Malcolm forked around his food and shook his head.

"I'll take some in a minute, but I think this lamb ought to fill me up for now." 

"I'll have the chicken, George," Mr. Young said, taking the bowl from his beaming son. "No use lettin' all the good food go to waste."

"You have gravy on your chin, dear," Mrs. Young said, eyeing her husband. He looked down at himself as if his eyes could see his chin. The woman took a napkin and wiped it off for him, continuing with her meal when he gently brushed her off. 

"I could have eaten that gravy, Maggie," he said picking his fork up. "Wipe it off with the chicken next time."

Enjoying his own share of the chicken, Angus looked to his left, watching Hannah set her fork down. Hardly anyone started eating and she was already finished, and just sitting at the table, grabbing her water glass a few times. Nudging her with his elbow, he took another bite of chicken. "Hey."

"Hello," she answered.

"You're already done?" Hannah looked down at her plate as if she hadn't noticed the vast absence of food. Opening her mouth a few times didn't help her brain form a proper response, and she simply turned her head away. Suddenly every eye in the room was on her, her heart racing. Stevie's talking turned to static, getting farther and farther away. Angus' elbow nudged her a little rougher the second time. "You can get more if you're still hungry."

Something didn't settle quite well in her stomach. With everyone in the room judging with their stares and watching her every move, she couldn't. Move, that is. Angus took her plate and reached for the vegetables, knowing she wasn't a voracious meat eater. No one was staring at him, she thought, as she inspected around the table. Malcolm and George were too busy competing with each other to notice, Linda and Margaret were listening to Stevie's story with Mrs. Young chiming in with a question now and then, while Mr. Young kept to himself, eating his chicken happily. 

Her plate was set down in front of her, Angus pulling his chair up. Giving her shoulder a little squeeze, he continued to eat his food, turning beet red when a kiss planted itself on his cheek. "Thank you," Hannah muttered, almost as red as he was. With a clang she knocked her fork against her water glass, hanging her head from any curious eyes. 

A second serving was quite nice, she thought.

"What's for dessert?"

"Stevie!" Margaret scolded, looking at her nephew with disdain. "We haven't even finished dinner yet."

"Doesn't mean I can't ask," Stevie said, looking around the table for agreement. Margaret sighed and forked a carrot. 

"We're baking cookies in a little while, you think you can wait that long?"

"Depends what a little while is."

"Long enough, Stevie, now eat your dinner," Mrs. Young said, earning a sighing compliance from the youngest Young in the room. The woman's look softened. "Now George, how is your Stevie doing?"

"My Stevie?" he asked, his mouth full of chicken. He eyed Harry for an explanation. 

"Yes, the one you made a band with." George swallowed his food and nodded. 

"First off, Mum, don't call him 'my' anything ever again," he said, Harry snickering into his water glass. Angus caught on, getting a reaction out of him as well. Mrs. Young sighed and spooned her potatoes, rolling her eyes at her sons' deals. "I don't play for that team, ya' know. Second, he couldn't be here."

"He couldn't be here?" she confirmed. George nodded and took a few drinks. "Why not?"

"Still in rehab," he shrugged. "Not lettin' him out till he's a whole year clean."

"Wonder if the Christmas dinner there's as good as the one here," Stevie Young asked to no one in particular. "Or if they have some big woman makin' the food." He and Malcolm laughed, getting Linda to sneak her husband a sly look. "Dishin' it out like some lunch lady or the like."

"Stevie!" Mrs. Young scolded, swatting Mr. Young when he started laughing as well. 

"What, Maggie, the boy's got a sense of humor!"

"And thankfully I was not the one to teach him that kind of humor," she said shaking her head. "Malcolm, don't encourage him."

"Yeah, Uncle Mal, don't encourage me," Stevie grinned. Malcolm grabbed him in a headlock and brought a fork to his face.

"Come on, Stevie boy, eat your greens then." Malcolm accidentally smeared potatoes on Stevie's face, getting some on his own shirt as well. "Ah, shit."

Most of the table was laughing, including Linda and even Hannah who cracked a smile. Margaret sighed, lightly grinning while she stirred the gravy around her plate. "You plan on seeing him again, George?" Mrs. Young asked through the giggling and food throwing. 

"Uh, not anytime soon, no. Wasn't expectin' him to show up at the wedding when he did, I've no clue when I'll see him next."

"The wedding?"

"Ang's." George motioned his head toward Angus who looked up. 

"Stevie was at the wedding?" Mr. Young asked, everyone looking at the wrong person.

"I never saw him," Angus said. "I had no idea he'd shown up."

"How long was he there for, George?" Margaret asked. The man looked at Harry and shrugged.

"A few minutes."

"He stopped by and we talked to him a bit, mostly George did," Harry explained. "He didn't seem too eager-eager to stay, so he left pretty quick."

"How was he lookin'?" Mr. Young inquired. 

"Fine," Harry said, lightly sighing. "Bit dark in the room but he looked okay."

"He looked tired," George expanded. "Like he hadn't slept in a week or somethin'."

"Well I should think so," Mr. Young said straightening in his chair. "Spendin' the holidays an' every other day away from your family an' friends, easin' your way off drugs, course he'd be wide awake."

"Wide awake an' tempted," George said. "Found a way to get some an' off he goes again."

The table was silent for a minute until Mrs. Young took it upon herself to lighten the mood. "Was a lovely wedding, ya' know," she grinned, showing her rather nice teeth. "The flowers, the food...and not to mention the most handsome groom I've ever seen." Malcolm looked up from his beloved lamb. 

"Eh, pardon me, Mum?"

"One of the most, one of the most," she corrected herself. "And Hannah, what can I say about you, hmm?" Hannah immediately lowered her head, hiding any reaction behind her water glass. "Couldn't take my eyes off ya'."

It seemed no one could take their eyes off her now. Embarrassed, she leaned into Angus, hardly knowing what on Earth made her so shy. An involuntary smile worked its way to her mouth, but she couldn't wait to hide it again. Angus looked down at her, chewing thoughtfully on his vegetables. "She's not likin' the attention, Mum."

"What attention? I'm only telling the truth." Linda agreed with her.

"Come on, Hannah, you wouldn't have minded a bit had Angus said it." Giving her husband a look, one only the two of them could understand, Hannah shrugged.

"Angus is different."

The man grinned cheekily in retaliation to the pairs of eyes boring into Hannah's entire person. "Hear that, eh?" he asked, receiving eye rolls around the table. Silverware clattered against plates, scraping the last bits of food they'd accept for dinner. Wiping his mouth on a napkin before lifting his water glass, he turned to his brother. "Mal."

"Mm?" Gravy dribbled on his chin and he grimaced.

"The guitars in the car?"

Malcolm nodded looking to George, who signaled his was also on hand. 

"You boys won't be staying for dessert?" Mrs. Young asked. 

"Gotta get playin', Mum," George answered, taking his plate, as well as Harry's. Angus held his out to him, George giving his brother a frown. "What?"

"I'm done."

"Can't take it yourself?"

"You took Harry's." Angus stood up grabbing his plate, as well as Hannah's, seeing she was quite finished. 

"He's a guest, Angus," Mrs. Young reprimanded him. "As well as Stevie and the ladies."

"Stevie and the ladies?" Malcolm laughed. He opened his mouth to make a joke when his nephew glared at him, flashing him a little finger so he'd close it again. None of the adults seemed to notice. He took his plate and stood up, offering to take Linda's as well, but leaving it when she denied her completion. "We still play on our days off, Mum, we'll be back to eat dessert."

"I was hoping maybe you'd help make it as well," replied his mother.

"I can help," Hannah spoke up, then wishing maybe she hadn't.

"Of course you can, and I can too," Linda said, finishing off her meal. "Stevie?" He turned to her. "Would you like to help make dessert?"

The young man shrugged, brushing his long hair away from his eyes. "I dunno, was kinda hopin' to play with the boys if that's all right."

"That's fine," Linda assured. "Of course, if you help you get a cookie before anyone else." The thought of an early dessert seemed to deter him. 

"That's temptin'," he admitted. "Maybe I'll come up a few times to supervise ya' know? Get a free sample?" Linda grinned taking her plate from the table. 

"Another set of hands would make it go a lot faster, you know," she reminded him. Hannah decided to follow Linda to the kitchen, ready to help set up their station. Grabbing the soap from the counter, she quickly filled the sink with water, plates, and various utensils. Quickly the table cleared, Malcolm, Harry, George, and an indecisive Stevie heading down to the basement for a quick inspection of the room. Mrs. Young along with Margaret made to help with the dishes, Mr. Young standing up before he could fall asleep in his chair, which would earn a scold from his wife. Clatters and clanks filled the kitchen while dishes were dried and stacked together. Hannah, occupied with a stubborn spot on Stevie's plate, didn't notice the other woman sidle up to her. "What kind are we making first, Hannah? Gingerbread, or..."

"There's some baking chocolate in the cupboard, dears, you can make chocolate if you want." Mrs. Young took a towel off the counter, pointing skywards with one hand. "Or there's a bit of molasses somewhere."

"Sounds good," Linda said grabbing various bowls and trays from the lower cabinets. "We can start with something everyone likes, so they won't have to wait too long. You say the chocolate is up here?"

"I didn't see any of their instruments in the house, did you, Linda?" Margaret asked picking up the tray carrying her lamb. 

"Mal said they were in the car, he's sharing the trunk with Angus. Where George's or anybody else's is I don't know. I don't rightly know if Stevie even knew they'd be playing."

"There's room enough down in the basement," said Mrs. Young. "but only just. They'll have to move a few boxes aside if they want to space themselves out."

 

"What's Mum doin' down here?" Malcolm asked setting a box full of broken Christmas lights on a rug. 

"She told Stevie an' I she was cleanin' a bit out," George said out of breath. "But I didn't know what it was she was cleanin'."

One by one a stack of boxes big and small accumulated against the wall of the basement. An amplifier had been placed by a torn up brown couch thanks to George, who was the only one with room in his car to do so. His and Harry's guitars were down there as well, though not yet set up. 

"I've got the keys," Malcolm said rubbing his wrist. "I'll get our stuff an' see how the ladies are doin'."

"Check the cookies too," Stevie said over his shoulder. A pillow ricocheted off his shoulder. 

"Check 'em yourself, ya' little mosquito," Malcolm said shaking his head. With Malcolm gone, it gave the men an opportunity to gossip. However, being the gentlemen that they were, and having not thought of the idea, they collapsed on the couch instead. 

"George?"

"Huh?"

"Was Stevie really there at the wedding?" In confusion, George looked to the present Stevie, then back at Angus to see he meant the singer.

"Oh! Oh, yeah."

"He really didn't look too well," Harry informed, taking Angus' face as one who hadn't been told enough. "Well, better than we've seen him before, but not the Stevie we know."

"How long did he stay?" Stevie Young asked.

"A few minutes," Harry answered again. George looked at the floor, not acting like someone eager to speak. "Went back to his place, and that was that."

Angus waited for George to say more, but when he didn't he crossed his foot over his knee, picking the dirt off his shoe. 

Malcolm's laughter was heard from the top of the stairs, heavy footsteps getting louder and closer, the man himself out of breath with a guitar in each hand, and flour in his hair. "I'm sorry, alright?" he shouted behind him, getting a few female voices in response. 

"What'd you do, Mal?" George asked, taken out of his trance.

"Just thought I'd say hello to my beautiful wife," he answered setting the guitars down. He shook his head, white powder blowing in every direction. His company coughed and waved their hands as if it were worse than cigarette smoke. "I guess takin' a lick from the spoon wasn't a good idea."

Knowing good and well what Malcolm really meant, the four of them laughed anyway like a group of ten-year-old boys. George grabbed his bass from the stand, standing up himself for a more practical playing stance. "She give you a little makeover then?" he asked, twirling a finger at Malcolm's snow-covered scalp.

"Eh," he shrugged pulling the guitar strap over his head. "Hannah did this. I asked her to stick up for me, ya' know?" Angus grinned to himself, listening agreeably to his brother's parable. "Next thing I know I got flour in my eyes, hair, an' every damn nook in between."

"You're not too upset, are you?" Harry asked, eager to get them all playing.

"Nah, she's a friend, ya' know?" His eyes met Angus', who in turn reflected back every moment they shared with that young lady, ever since they met. "A damn good friend."

 

After an hour of playing, the idea of fresh cookies waiting for them on a plate upstairs entirely forgotten, Angus took his turn playing lead, Harry stepping out for a bit. The floor beneath him may as well have been a rut, with the way his heels hit twice at a time, keeping rhythm. Nodding his head reminded him to call up a friend to give him a haircut, his fingers hardly visible from the curls over his eyes. The song was one of the band's older collections, one George knew the bass line all too well for. Mark played it well himself, and Cliff was exceptional, but it was mutually agreed there was no better bass player than George Young himself. "Paul McCartney couldn't do better," Malcolm always bragged. 

When the song ended, as all songs must eventually do, Angus shook the wet hair from his face, which was rather flushed. Stevie removed Malcolm's guitar from around his neck and handed it back, letting the younger man play a song or two. He had to admit, he was quite good. If for any reason Malcolm couldn't play they might have to recruit him. Without, of course, hoping for that possibility. 

"That was good," George commented, giving his bass one last tune-up. "I think your A string is a little sharp, Ang, did you notice?"

"I thought it might be," he nodded, falling on the couch. "Didn't want to pause the song for one string, an' thought we could take a break anyway."

"Give it to me, I'll fix it." The guitar changed hands and George leaned back against the wall tuning the instrument. Thinking a good long drink to be a great idea, Stevie volunteered to get water for all of them, Angus not bothering to hide his frown when Malcolm asked for a beer instead. His nephew walked up the stairs reminding himself to snag a few cookies on the way as well. Malcolm returned the look at Angus who quickly turned away, knowing he had it under control. Not once in a whole year had Malcolm gone overboard. He drank plenty and certainly got a bit drunk at times. But nothing he couldn't and hadn't handled before. Linda had nothing to report, and that was that. Let the man have a beer for Christ's sake. 

He was shaken from his thoughts when instead of returning with the drinks as promised, Stevie began laughing from upstairs, a few female voices following the noise. One rang out to him distinctly as his Hannah, a laugh he hadn't heard in so long. Eager to see what made her so joyful, he silently excused himself from the couch and climbed the stairs. 

He stopped at the top, Malcolm unable to see from behind him and gently ushered past. Stevie stood by the sink, water pouring from the faucet into his open mouth and down the drain. Tearing their eyes from the unpleasant sight, they found Hannah on the floor near tears, a collection of snorts coming out of the tiny being. Angus took to her side, unable to keep the smile away as he knelt down and got a better look at her. 

"What happened?" Malcolm asked. He moved aside to let George and Harry through.

Linda, unable to answer, turned to Stevie, who turned the faucet off, blindly reaching for a towel to dry his mouth. "They offered me a cookie an' didn't tell me it would taste like a rock," he sputtered, bearing a grin himself. 

"What's wrong with 'em?" Angus asked as Malcolm took one from the plate. One bite and he suddenly knew what had Stevie washing his mouth out. 

"Seems someone forgot to put the butter in," Mrs. Young explained watching the kids have fun. Margaret stood by the garbage can scraping some burnt cookies out of the pan. 

"Wonder who," Angus said, turning to a red-faced Hannah. 

"It was an-an accident!" she managed through bouts of laughter and snorts. Stevie looked around the room at the sound. 

"What the hell was that?" he asked. 

"What?" Linda asked wiping the corner of her eye.

"That barnyard pig sound, where's that coming from?" Angus moved to let his nephew see the culprit. "You?"She pointed wordlessly at him, covering her face with her hands. "What?"

"I think your reaction to the food is what caused it," George said, hesitant to try a cookie. "Got her havin' a near stroke out here with your example."

"We have a second batch in the oven, Stevie," Mrs. Young assured. "But for now perhaps you could dry off the floor you spilled water all over."

 

"...since I haven't seen it in so long." Angus opened the door, letting Hannah cross the threshold first. The room was cold and empty, a bare mattress on a bed frame along with a wooden dresser taking up the majority. The rest of the floor was covered with cardboard boxes, some empty, some filled with various fabrics and trimmings. A pile of blankets and sheets rested on the floor by the dresser, along with a few pillows as well. Angus closed the door after them and looked around his old bedroom, a smell he didn't recognize hitting his nose in a most unflattering way. The top of the dresser was covered in dust. He didn't touch it and instead grabbed a few sheets and unfolded them. "Let's get this bed ready to sleep in, yeah?" he asked glad for a bit of help. 

Hannah grabbed a second sheet and laid it atop the first. They both struggled to get the bedspread on, one side always seeming to be too short. There were two pillows for each of them, Angus debating whether he would utilize both or not. Making himself comfortable, he let his weight sink on the bed and closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose when Hannah tickled his socked foot. "It's good to see your old house again," she said taking a spot beside him. 

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah." They rested in silence for a while, Angus trying not to gag from the new smell. "Hey, do you smell that, love?"

"Like there's a rat under the bed?" she affirmed. "I noticed it when we reached the door."

"Want me to open the window?" he asked sitting up. The window was covered with a no longer white curtain housing a few cobwebs. Saturated in dust, they sat perfectly still in the quickly stifling room. Hannah let him choose and he opened it without question. A slight breeze blew in, Angus squinting from the setting sun poking in casting a golden glow on the other side of the curtain. He coughed a bit from excess dust and returned to the bed, sitting on the edge. "That better?"

"We'll see in a few minutes I suppose," Hannah answered sitting up next to him. "Or it will blow the smell around."

"You sure it wasn't you?"

"You sure it wasn't you?" 

"You smelled it first, ya' know."

"It's your room." 

"Probably your cookies that did it, ya' know." Hannah covered her face in quiet giggles again, revisiting Stevie's reaction. He waited until she was finished, the room growing darker by the minutes. When she finally relaxed, he turned his head to see her facing the floor, hands clasped. Her brown bangs spread across her eyes and she brushed it aside, her lashes fluttering. "You didn't bring anything to change into, did ya'?"

"No, did you?" she asked eyeing him. He spread his arms as if to say he didn't, then proceeded to turn Hannah's face red by removing his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, sweetheart, it's hot as hell in here." The blue sweater slipped over his hair, the curls falling in his eyes again and he shook them away. He tossed it about in his hands, turning it over and fixing it when it was inside out. The breeze felt much better on the exposed skin, and he considered going to bed without anything on. Finding Hannah pretending not to pay attention to him, he placed the sweater over her head, the sleeves dangling in her face.

"Hey!"

"You can wear that if you want. To bed, ya' know," he said sniffing. 

"Thanks, Angus, you're too sweet." She took the material in her hands and set it in her lap. Deciding she didn't feel like getting up, she pulled her arms through the sleeves of her light blue sweater and pulled it over her own head, messing up her hair bow. Angus tried to sneak a peak but only saw her grey tank top underneath. "Nice try, Angus," Hannah said before opening her eyes. 

"I was only makin' sure you wouldn't get stuck," he defended, a grin creeping up. "Only tryin' to help a friend. My wife, as a matter of fact."

"I appreciate it. Sorry to disappoint you." She beamed at her own cheekiness and set her sweater aside, pulling Angus' over her head. It was a little bit longer on her than she thought it would be, then deciding it was long enough to use as a small nightgown. Her jeans and sweater were folded neatly and placed on the ground, Hannah quickly checking under the bed for any dead rodents. The hair bow was still on the bed and before Angus could protest, it was placed on his head and adjusted to fit in his wild hair. "You look dashing, Angus, look at yourself."

"Could ya' put me on a magazine?" he asked fixing its position. 

"I always think you could be," Hannah responded. "Your picture is always in the Personal's column in the newspaper anyway."

"Oh yeah, all my old dates tryin' to find me," he joked, removing it to place it on the bed. "Or maybe some officer lookin' for me. Some old rival in high school, ya' know. Johnny maybe." 

Hannah frowned at the mention of his name. "Don't remind me of him ever again. He's hurt Susan, and you!"

"I know, sweetheart, I was there. Got a nice little present on the night of the-the dance, ya' know." He studied her profile a few minutes before scooting closer. She turned to face him and pressed her nose against his shoulder. "Hey, you remember takin' care of me that night? You an' Mal takin' me on an adventure to the hospital, eh?"

"Yes, I remember. That wasn't fun." Angus wrapped an arm over her shoulders, running his fingers through her hair. "We never called the police on him or anything, he just got away with it all."

"Hey, at least he wasn't as bad as-" Angus cut himself off. He knew the mistake he made, and there was hardly a way to fix it. Surely she didn't want to hear that name again, not now. Not ever. Hannah stayed quiet, shutting her eyes tight as if to keep the mere image of the man out of her mind. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "That prick ain't here anymore, you understand? He's gone."

She didn't answer, knowing the truth but refusing to believe it. He could escape, or charges could be dropped. For all they knew, he'd always be there. Travis would have the last laugh.

Hannah shook her head, keeping her eyes closed. "No. They're both bad. Susan and you got hurt just as much as I did."

"He didn't keep us locked inside the house, parading us around his sleazy friends while gambling all your money away!" Angus didn't mean to yell. But the very thought of Travis sent his blood boiling. His heart sank when he noticed a small tear threatening to fall at the bottom of her eye. Allowing his neck to ache, he turned his head in an awkward position to attempt at kissing it away. 

The sun had vanished completely by now. 

"Are you alright?" he asked in the darkness. She didn't answer, though he could hear and feel her breathing against his skin. A few voices echoed down the hall, one being his mother getting after George and Malcolm messing around on the stairs. Her breath hit him sharply, indicating her mirth at the image. "They must be havin' a fight without me."

"That's different," she finally answered. "You're usually the ones starting them."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are t-"

Hannah's words were stolen from her as Angus' fingers jabbed continuously at her ribs. Pulling away was fruitless when Angus used one arm to hold her still, her squirming shaking the bed. "Can I get ya' to snort again?" Angus asked, pulling her onto the bed. "Have Stevie come to your rescue?"

Hannah complied with lying back on the bed if only to scoot towards the pillows to gain some leverage against him. His fingers attacked once again, tickling her ribs, her neck, and her arms while she thrashed underneath him. Eventually, Angus gave in surrender, holding down her arms before she got either one of them hurt. Allowing her to catch her breath, he grinned down at her at his victory. Her panting lessoned, her eyes opening. "What on Earth do you do to your guitars to make you tickle that bad?" she asked. 

"I jus' do what every woman loves her man to do," he answered simply. "On the guitar of course, but I'm sure it wouldn't mind if you took its place."

"You're sick," she said, reaching for a pillow to smack him with. His grip was rather tight, however.

"I'm sick?" he asked leaning down to kiss her cheek. "You asked a dirty question! I ought to know who the hell you've been hangin' around with." She laughed at the feel of his lips on her cheek, inviting him to do it again. 

"My throat hurts from laughing, quit it!"

"I don't want to," he replied, planting the quickest of kisses on her cheek. The only tears left in her eyes were ones of joy, ones that he put there himself. Once the left side of her face had been covered in his affections, he attacked the right, giggling a bit here and there himself. Hannah struggled her arms against his grip, one that he refused to alleviate. Despite her pleas to resist, as she didn't really mean any of it, Angus continued to pepper her face until there was only one spot left. He made sure she got the message too. "There," he said pulling away. 

"Satisfied?" Hannah asked, tired from fighting back. His eyes narrowed, both of them darting between her own. 

"Not hardly." He kissed her one more time, holding it for a few seconds more. Pulling away took a bit of effort on his part, and he kept close before the warmth went away. Heart beating faster than he remembered, he let his gaze wander south to her own lips, those which were parted slightly. 

"You okay?" Hannah whispered. He nodded, leaning in a third time. Pulling away wasn't as hard if he simply kept pressing against them again. Weight rested on the bed on either side of Hannah's head, her arms now free of his prison. Slowly he kissed her, waiting for any negative reaction out of her. When he didn't go flying across the room he made another attempt. A noise of surprise rattled in his throat when her free hands grazed his shoulders. He paused, waiting for her to push him off. Instead, they held still, thumbs merely rubbing circles on his skin. Another attempt, each kiss longer than the last. Using one elbow to hold himself above her, he moved one hand to her cheek, wandering up to her hair. It was long enough to hold, yet short enough to prevent any knots as his fingers tangled themselves at the ends. Another sound came out of him when her hands traveled from his shoulders down to his back, daring him to come closer. 

Something rested against his hip, Angus hardly realizing Hannah's leg slid up the bed, the other one sliding out from under him. Quickly each kiss turned shorter than the last as well as their breaths. Her lips felt warm against his, her hands running up and down. The open window didn't help the room cool down anymore, Angus' face feeling rather flushed anyway. Taking a slight chance of ending their "conversation", he removed his lips from hers and trailed them down her jaw, reaching her neck. Nothing happened, at least, nothing he didn't want. Hannah remained awfully quiet, not being quite so vocal about the ordeal as he was. None of her actions proved she wanted him to stop, so, why not try something else?

He felt the skin on her neck turn warm, latching on to whatever he could reach for the moment without removing anything. If she didn't hesitate now, maybe he'd ease their way into deeper territory. Something stirred within him, something he had felt before, but couldn't quite name. It felt familiar to him, albeit on foreign grounds. Like seeing a teacher at the grocery store. Never during a moment like this had he felt it, not even with Sherrie. Despite the many times they shared a night together, nothing had confused him. Usually the mind switches off letting hands and hearts take over. But his mind wasn't shutting down. There was still a pressing thought. One he couldn't express. 

"Angus...?"

Immediately he pulled away, ready to apologize for whatever wrong move he made. Going too fast, crushing her underneath him, or hurting her in his constellation of kisses he placed on her skin. Willing his eyes to open, he stared down at her, blinking rapidly. Finally hers opened, two dots of hazel looking awfully black in the dark. Their breaths mingled between them, both shivering from the breeze along with the loss of contact. He waited a few seconds before responding. "What's wrong?"

Her answer took just as long. Reaching one hand up to his face to brush his messy hair away from his face, she ran a thumb across his cheek. "I love you."

There it was. The reason his brain wouldn't turn off. Why he had been hesitant to go too quickly or jump right in. Something else besides primal urges drove him to this point and there was no guessing now what it was. He loved her. He'd loved her for years, and he'd love her for the rest of their lives. Taking in the sight of her messy hair and tousled shirt, he paused to find the right words. 

"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, taking note of a family downstairs and a city outside. Exhaling in relief, he dove back in, kissing her neck and shoulder. "I love you so much," he sighed. 

Kiss after kiss he planted, on her neck, her lips, her cheek, wherever he could steal them without fabric getting in the way. Hannah's arms around him pulled him closer, her legs around him holding him still. He could feel himself getting excited, grinning through the minutes he spent with her. Knowing he could have had plenty of company, but that his best friend was the one that loved him back. Growing desperate, he snaked one arm around her waist while the other toyed with her hair. Hannah confessed her feelings again, Angus making noise in response. Back and forth their table-tennis game of affection wore on before one wandering hand felt its way under a blue, navy, or black sweater. He couldn't tell in the dark.

"...to bed, that's where."

"...cleaning up...here..."

"I know I know."

"..."

"What?"

Angus distanced himself once again upon hearing a pair of muffled voices outside his bedroom. One belonged to Malcolm, who just reached the top of the stairs, shouting back to another completely unintelligible mumble. If he had to make a guess he'd pick his mother. Resting his forehead against hers, he listened.

"Angus went to bed without touchin' a damn thing, at least I washed the plates, didn't I?"

"...Angus didn't...must have..."

"Who is it?" Hannah whispered.

"The many wonderful Youngs, my dear," he answered vaguely. Reluctantly he pulled himself up, grinning cheekily at the legs unwrapping from around his waist. A cold blast hit him from behind and he hurried to sit next to her and get under the covers. Taking Hannah with him, he used one arm to lay underneath her, the other to sit on his lap. Until he saw the state her hair was in. "Sorry about that."

"That's alright," she sighed, turning to face him. Her hair was combed through and pushed behind her ear, soothing her heartbeat to the normal rate. Her nose pressed against his chest, seeking the warmth that had been lost with the interruption. "Maybe we shouldn't go too far with other people in the house."

"I could tell them to keep it down," Angus suggested. "Do you guys mind? We can't hear ourselves make love." Despite the sudden pang in her heart at the implication of their activity, she had to admit it was funny. "Or maybe we should have gone to your place instead."

"My place?" Hannah turned her head to face him. 

"Sure, it's just down the road. Mal took a detour an' we might have missed it...is your mum still there?" Angus asked. "Can't imagine she'd let me in though."

Her mother. There had been no contact with her for years. Ever since she left school and went to live with Travis, her mother hadn't been spent a cent to visit her in any way, and Hannah was sure she wasn't allowed to leave Travis' sight. Mrs. Young was the closest one she had in recent light. Any hope of her still living there wasn't high, and there was always a possibility of age or sickness taking her without them knowing. "I-I don't know," Hannah admitted. "She might not live there anymore."

"D'ya' miss her?" 

"I...yes, I do. She's still my mom. She raised me, she kept a roof over my head, she didn't neglect me in any way...I still miss her." Angus pulled the covers up to her shoulders. Whether her body shivered from the cold outside or the cold relations with her mother he couldn't discern. Seeing each other one last time...just once, to end things on good terms before...

"Maybe we can see her some time, ya' know? Make a trip to your old house or somethin'."

"...Maybe..." 

Angus didn't persist. He shifted in his spot from a slight tickle on his chest, a small finger tracing a pattern. "What are you doin'?"

"Drawing a picture."

"Of?" he asked.

"Bon in a woman's bathing suit doing a handstand."

"Hey, that's pretty impressive," Angus laughed. "He'd model for ya' if you asked him." Trails of cooled flesh followed after the tiny finger. No image was there after she was done, the product being something of a rather simple design. With a closed fist she rubbed it away, Angus' face heating up when a couple of lips took the picture's place. Taking both of them under the covers, he let one arm sit outside, attempting to cool down after what transpired. It didn't work as well as he had hoped. Changing his position, he pulled his feet up to grab his socks. "You don't mind, do ya', sweetheart?"

"Not a bit," she yawned, glad to be getting some sleep. Her medicine began to kick in again. 

"Thanks. Fuckin' roastin' in here, ya' know?" With one sock came the other sock, both dropped to the floor in haste. Ten fingers nimbly pulled his belt off and that too hit the ground. With a sigh of relief and a boyish grin, he threw his jeans across the room. No less eager to snuggle, Hannah returned to burying herself in his warmth. Giving her one last kiss on the head, he closed his eyes. "Love ya'."

"Love you too."


	12. Chapter Twelve

Hot water dripped from the ends of his hair, running down his cheeks and into his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his hand, spreading more water around. Strands of hair, absent of curl, stuck to his forehead, covering his eyes. Pushing them out of his face, he squinted, noticing something rather...off. Perhaps he'd never paid attention, but with not much else to look at, he couldn't help but stare at the marks on her side, like scars from a wound.

"What are those?" he asked, bluntly pointing at them. 

Hannah turned in his direction, keeping the shampoo out of her eyes. "What?"

"Those marks on you, like some sort of..." His words cut themselves off as he couldn't think of how to describe them without sounding vulgar. Unless he completely wasted himself one night and she had been too ashamed to remind him of whatever events took place afterward, he was completely clueless. "...who did that to you?"

"No one." He raised his eyebrows. "They're birthmarks."

"No, are ya' sure?" he asked, taking a step closer. She pressed some fingers to her skin to stretch it out, getting a good look herself. The marks were dark in color, in stark contrast to her pink skin. Not worryingly dark, but certainly noticeable surrounded by scenery as plain as shower walls and shampoo bottles. They practically littered one side of her body, running from her hip to just under her chest. She turned around, giving Angus a view of the same spots running along her back. 

"I've had them for years," she explained, running her hands under the water. "Not since birth, but a long time."

"I've never seen those before," Angus said, still curious as to why she had so many of them, and why they were so big. 

"I have one on my leg too." Angus reflexively turned his head away, as if she was about to show him the mark on her leg. Rather she continued to push the shampoo through her hair, closing her eyes as some stray water drops hit her face. No one said anything for a minute. "What did you think they were?"

Either the bathroom was too hot, or the embarrassing question gave his face a strong flush, and he shrugged his shoulders, his words a stutter.

"I-I jus' th-thought..." He cleared his throat when his voice cracked. "They really don't look like-" He swallowed. "like birthmarks."

"What do they look like then?" Hannah almost had a smile on her face, one of teasing. He shrugged again, looking at his feet.

"...they look like hickeys." His face flushed again when she laughed at him. "What's so funny?"

"Do you remember any incident at all that that might have happened?" she asked waggling her head. 

"No! That's what had me so curious, I don't remember givin' those at all." He accidentally stared at them, suddenly and inexplicably relieved they were not what he thought they were. He started laughing in spite of himself. "Had me goin' for a minute."

"I'm not the biggest fan of them," Hannah said, wrinkling her nose as she inspected them again. "I know they're benign but I don't like the look of them. There's too many." Angus stepped a bit closer, giving her the smuggest grin he knew how to muster.

"Would you have liked them more if I had given them to you?" he asked, now her face flushing bright red. 

"Uh, I uh-can't really-I don't know," she said, easing her way around him, the shower wall awfully cold against her shoulder. "I suppose they'd go away, wouldn't they?"

Angus shrugged. "Perhaps. An' I'd have to give more of them then, eh?" He laughed at her expression, joyfully getting her back for scaring him senseless, especially when he was naked. Some excess water still dripping off his hands, he flicked his wrist at her, the drops flying off and into her eyes.

"Hey!"

"'T's what ya' get, eh? Go on, have a turn to wash up," he said, letting her step under the running water. Shampoo cascaded down her hair onto the floor, Hannah almost standing like a child to rinse herself off. Angus meanwhile grabbed a washcloth and a soap bottle. Before he was finished, something cold landed on his scalp. "What are you-"

"Helping," Hannah said, letting the shampoo collect on his hair. Angus sniffed the air, trying to guess which of the two shampoo bottles she chose. 

"Which one is this?" he asked.

"Which one?"

"You use the one with the flower or the watermelon on the bottle?" Hannah looked at the bottle she was holding, a hint of green peeking out from under her thumb. 

"The watermelon."

"Good," Angus said, running the washcloth over his arm. "I've used the flower one before, it smells God awful."

"What are you talking about, it smells fine!"

"Smells like someone had to take a shit at the factory an' all the toilets were full," Angus muttered, eyeing the bottle in her hand. "That one smells fine, nice an' fruity."

"It doesn't smell that way when I use it," Hannah said, straightening her shoulders from pride. 

"You wash it out, an' the smell goes away," Angus argued. "But I used it once to try it out an' almost didn't make it out alive." Hannah laughed at his exaggeration as she scrubbed the soap in his hair. "'Bout damn near drowned after passin' out on the fuckin' floor."

"You're ridiculous," she said, looking at him once to grin at the tongue he stuck out at her between his teeth. Taking small sections of hair in each hand, she molded and sculpted whatever she could out of his hair, doing her best to keep any of it from falling, or slinging soap in his eyes. 

"You messin' up my hair?" Angus asked, lightly tossing the washcloth on the soap dish, holding as still as he could. 

"Not much to mess up anyway," she mumbled, concentrating on her task. "I'm trying to make it stand up." a good amount of it had cooperated with her hands and stood up on his head on its own, some of it in the back still hanging around his ears. "Looks very handsome."

"You're too kind," he said, batting his lashes at her. Raising a hand to feel it, soap covered his fingers and all his hair toppled over onto his face. "Ah, shit!"

"Are you alright?" Hannah stepped out of the way of the water and let Angus stand under it, one palm covering his eyes. 

"Fine, love, jus' fine," he muttered, wincing from the sting. "Now how 'bout handin' me a towel for Christ's sake?" Thankful the towel rack hung right by the shower, Hannah opened the door, letting a blast of cool air hit her body. Grabbing the hand towel, she touched it to Angus' face, the man taking it for himself and covering his eyes. "Fuck, that hurts."

"I'm sorry, Angus, I didn't mean to-"

"It ain't your fault, sweetheart, don't worry about it. I'm mad at the pain, not at you." Hannah hung her head, fiddling with her hands. A sort of smile crept up on Angus' face. "I was the one who knocked it over like a domino anyway, eh?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I still think it looks very handsome," Hannah consoled, staring at the soapy mess on Angus' head. A good amount had slipped down the drain, crowding around the outline of his feet. A nest of knots and nonsense topped his head, something that would break the comb trying to fix it. Deciding to be of help one more time, Hannah sorted through the tangles, combing through with her fingers as gently as she could. Angus would wince every now and then, Hannah unsure if from her actions or the shampoo still clouding his vision. Little by little, Angus eased the towel away from his eyes, blinking rapidly each attempt. 

"Alright, I don't think I've gone blind this time," he teased, handing back the hand towel. Hannah hung it back where it was and closed the door, steam quickly building up again. Angus made a noise of disgust, rubbing his left eye. "Hope you're havin' a nicer time than me?"

"I'm certainly not having a worse time," Hannah commented, Angus choking out a laugh. Hannah cracked a grin at the circumstances. "I thought showers were supposed to be romantic."

"When have the two of us ever been romantic?" he asked, throwing the last word out with a sort of accent. "Please, you and me are a couple o' moths dinin' by the light of a bug zapper."

"Surely we're not that bad."

"Alright, maybe not," Angus shrugged. "You're a bit more of a butterfly than a moth anyway." Hannah nodded.

"Oh, that's much better, thank you," she said, taking the washcloth and the soap. She used her forearm to wipe away some water that had dripped down her nose. "You're more of a firefly yourself."

"Why, 'cause I got a big glowin' rash on my arse?" Hannah just about doubled over with laughter, nearly dropping the contents in her hands. Angus rolled his eyes, a big grin creeping up. "At least I don't have a hickey tattooed on my hip. You could be a ladybug. Heh, suppose that makes it a bit more romantic, eh?"

"You are absolutely a pain!" Hannah swatted him with the washcloth, hitting his cheek.

"Oh yeah? Let's see...rash pain or hickey pain?" He ducked another swat, collecting water in his palms and throwing it. "One way to get a girl soakin' wet, eh?"

"Oh, you're gross!" She set the bottle down, using the washcloth as a flimsy sword, hitting his arms and shoulders. He stepped back to lean against the wall, holding a hand up and turning his head away in case he should get slapped again. Hannah didn't hold back, shouting some nasty things as she swung the washcloth. All in good jest, of course. "You dirty little-piece of-"

"Oi, that's enough outta you, Missy," he said, ceasing to retreat into the wall, and grabbing her by the arms. The washcloth flapped back and forth, hitting both of them in the face until it flew out of Hannah's hand, landing somewhere on the floor by the drain, collecting drops of stray water. 

With both arms grabbed and pinned down, Angus wrapped his own around her, hair covering his eyes dripping water on his face, leaning his head against hers, and imitating her pout of an expression. "Don't make that face at me, I ain't the one cursin' up a storm an' hittin' a friend."

"I'm not the one making obscene jokes and gestures like I'm in high school again," Hannah retorted, sticking her tongue out. Angus stuck his out too, continuing to make faces until she smiled again. Until she laughed again. Letting her get herself under control, he gently rocked them back and forth, the sound of the water drowning them in their thoughts.

"You got some soap on your hair," Angus observed, wiping it away with his hand. "An' I got soap in other various nooks."

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Angus said, closing his eyes for half a minute, before opening them and pulling up Hannah's right arm from its prison. "How're your arms, any better?"

"A little bit. They don't itch at all anymore. And they don't get red as often."

"Have they bled any?"

"No, not since I've scratched them a while ago. They feel a bit better." After inspecting the arm a few seconds more, looking around for any unnoticed burns (and other suspicious birthmarks), he let her go and rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes and humming to himself. Whatever it was it wasn't very good, and they both knew that. But neither one cared, and simply chose to relax into the other one without commenting on Angus' vocal abilities. Without the water to hug them in warmth, the little shower was rather cold, and Hannah shivered a bit. Steam clouds kissed them every so often as if little displays of affection witnessed only by the two of them. Each minute was a gem in a treasure chest full of memories they had built together and filled together, the bottom seemingly nonexistent. 

With one hand lightly scratching her shoulders, Angus inquired some more. "How're you feelin' about Queensland?"

"The same as always," Hannah replied. "Excited to be there, I suppose." 

"You'll have fun," Angus assured her, moving her bangs out of her eyes. "Bon'll get a bit drunk, ya' know. Swept away in the waves...Mal might jus' get some sand in his mouth, ya' know...Ya' never know."

"What about you?" Hannah asked, staring down at him. 

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows. "Eh, I'll probably meet some blonde beach babe, ya' know, run off into the sunset, an' get hitched an' all that." Hannah grinned, looking away from his eyes and down towards his shoulder. "Get a nice beach house an' live a while there. I'm a bit excited myself, ya' know."

"Promise you won't forget me when you run off and get married?" Hannah asked, playing along. Angus pressed his forehead against hers, eyes darting across her own. 

"I won't," he promised. "No matter how hard I try..."

"Oh, get bent!" Angus murmured a laugh to himself, quieting it to a low hum. The smile faded a bit, his gaze narrowing. 

"You-you're feelin' alright, though?" he asked getting back on the topic. "In-in general, I mean." Hannah raised an eyebrow.

"Have you been talking to Malcolm?" she asked getting Angus to purse his lips. 

"Probably, he is my brother." He loosened his grip on her, looking into her eyes which had cast themselves downwards to her feet. "He might have mentioned you were a bit nervous."

"Is that all?"

"Well-it's all he told me." Hannah didn't answer, the sound of the water making it difficult to think straight. "Is that all you're tellin' me?" Waiting for an answer took a few minutes. 

"I've just been feeling-funny is all."

"Funny?"

"Yes, funny." Angus narrowed his eyes, thinking up all the definitions he knew of the word, 'funny'. "Not sick, just-"

"Funny," he finished for her. She nodded, looking up at him sheepishly. "Feelin' funny isn't usually a good thing."

"I'm sure it's nothing, I'll bet it's nerves for the trip."

"We've been on several trips, have you always felt funny on any of those?" Hannah couldn't recall. "Funny. Huh. If you start feelin' sick or somethin', you'd better tell me, alright? You think perhaps you've finally caught my flu bug? From all your kissin' me?"

A smile graced her lips. "You know what, I'll bet that's it. It's decided to show up right on our holiday vacation." She sighed, knowing how inopportune this timing was. "Fancy that."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart, I'll take care of ya'. Hope you're not as bad as I was, ya' know." Time passed around the two, water from the shower head dropping like sand in an hourglass, intimating an eternity. A few stray drops hitting his face woke Angus out of his sleepy trance and he opened the door. "Cliff ought to be here any minute, an' we don't need him catchin' us like this," he mumbled, stepping out onto the rug on the floor. He shivered against the sudden cold, grabbing a big towel off the hook. Hannah stood under the water, holding her arms crossed over her as the cool of the fan chased the hot steam away. Securing it around his waist, he grabbed a second one and opened it, holding it out against the open door. "Come on then, dry off." Hannah stepped out, Angus wrapping the fluffy towel around her and grabbing a few things off the counter. "You can change in here, I'll slip out for the bedroom." He used one hand to keep his towel in place. "Hope Cliff ain't out there yet, 'cause if this bugger slips off I'm buyin' him dinner."

 

Waves as green as emeralds soaked up the sand, mixing with a gorgeous tan. With the city gleaming behind them, the water sparkled and shimmered over the horizon, the sun beginning to set behind them. A few other people were still outside, some walking the length of the beach hand in hand, some relaxing on the shore with beach towels, waiting for the fireworks. And some stayed in their swimsuits splashing in the water, holding contests and the waists of significant others. One man, dressed as Santa Claus, stood under a tent holding a basket and ringing a bell. Another Santa Claus had taken to a lounge chair, soaking up the last rays of sun in a speedo. Well, this one wasn't a real Santa Claus anyway.

Smiling from ear to ear, a young woman pulled a man behind her, kicking her shoes off and running towards the water. "Come on, Cliff, this will be fun!"

"I'm not sayin' it won't be, Georgie, but I'm not quite wearin' the shoes for it."

"That's your own fault," she teased, letting him catch up. "What's a little water anyway?"

"Water an' sand, an' little crabs in my shoe?" Angus caught the snicker Bon tried to keep in and knew exactly why it birthed in the first place. 

"Take 'em off then, come on!" Georganne took off for the waves again, wading a few feet to wait for Cliff. "Linda, Mal! Come in with us!"

"Come on, Mal, it'll be fun."

"I don't doubt it," Malcolm said sliding his shoes off. "Oi, Ang! You comin'?" Angus scanned the beach for Hannah, who had kept herself busy talking to Phil and Bon, both of whom came alone on this trip. Everyone had expected Silver to make an appearance if just to keep Bon company in bed, but her relationship with the band proved their reality different. Had Bon took a vacation by himself, surely she would have joined him. Malcolm still looked at him, expecting an answer, and simply leaving Angus to make a decision on the beach without him. Both couples were in the water by now, Cliff having taken Georgeanne on his shoulders as payback for a rather unwanted shower of salt water. 

Unheard of being left out of any fun within a ten-foot radius, Bon took off down the sand, clothes and shoes still attached, and threw himself in the water. Malcolm took the brunt of the splash, falling backward. Angus grinned, hearing Hannah laugh from a few feet away. The sound that came next could easily compare to that of a dog having its tail stepped on. Phil took it upon himself to pick her up from the shore and carry her over his shoulder to join the others. Her hat fell to the sand, the same one Angus had given her so long ago. Watching Phil run into the water with a laughing Hannah on his back, the young man approached the hat, sand falling from the bill. Faded patches covered the top and some fabric had been torn. It was still blue, but hardly the shade of the incoming waves. He picked it up from its fresh grave and walked the length of the shore, the laughter growing further away. 

Wind beat his back, which wrestled with the hot sun burning his neck. He considered removing his shoes if only to find relief in the cold sand beneath him. A sandy Christmas could be just as good as a snowy one. Water snared his feet as it tickled the beach, going back and forth in a collection of tides. Nearby stood an abandoned castle, its walls crumbling onto a moat of seashells. 

Further up the beach seemed a rut. Bits of wet sand met the sun surrounding a trail carved by foot in the shape of a heart. Inscribed inside were the words, "I love you Susan" and a signature containing nothing but the letter R below it. Angus knew it wasn't the same Susan but his mind couldn't help but wander back to the woman of his childhood fantasies. 

Married already with three soon to be four kids. Only recently had he been thinking about kids of his own, since Malcolm mentioned he and Linda wanting one. And here Susan wasted no time having four. Had their futures turned out differently that might have been him with four kids. The longer he thought about it, the more he realized he did have four kids. Five actually, and they were all playing in the water a hundred meters away. And if he was honest with himself he was a kid as well. 

Admittedly though, Susan had done well for herself. Got out of an abusive relationship to marry a doctor. In some ways, it paralleled Hannah's own life, though it made him nauseous to even think of Hannah being in a relationship with that man. What he had tried on her was bad enough. I ain't gonna force nothin', he thought to himself.

A faint sound behind him drew him out of his thoughts. Before he had a chance to turn around, a pair of wet snakes encircled his waist and hoisted him into the air. "Little runaway, eh?" Bon asked turning on his heel and walking back to the group. 

"Put me the fuck down, Bon." Bon ignored the request.

"I think the fuck not, Angus. An' there are kids on this beach, ya' know? They could hear you." Angus smiled looking over his shoulder to see the water getting closer, the laughter getting louder, and the waves getting stronger. 

There were indeed kids around, sitting with their parents on beach towels, a few of them craning their necks to see the ruckus in the water. A couple of older people noticed the band's presence, and surely a few secret pictures were snapped. Not that Angus' minded a few pictures of his arse in the air, he was used to it. Albeit there usually were fewer pants in the equation. "Bon, what the fuck are you doin'?"

"Bottoms up, Ang." And with a great heave, Angus flew off the man's shoulders and hit the water below him, taking out a few other band members as well. Bon laughed the hardest, knowing Angus probably would have laughed too if he didn't have water in his mouth. 

"Glad you could join, Ang." Malcolm held his hands up to block the water Angus threw at him. "Stop that, I didn't throw you in!"

"Your idea though, wasn't it?" Angus asked. His shirt clung to his skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his sunburnt neck. While it did feel better to be cooled from the hot sun, being taken against his will crossed the line. During the trek to the water (or from being thrown in), his pants had rolled up his legs, and the water held them in place. 

"Hannah's idea actually," Bon answered for him. Angus turned around and didn't see her right away. When he did find her struggling out of Cliff's grip with Georganne doing her best to help free the poor girl, she caught his eye and gave him a little wave. Wrinkling his nose in return, Angus searched the water for the blue hat he dropped. Sun hit the sparkling water just right making it painfully difficult to see. Malcolm stepped back to give him room when he stepped on something.

"Oi, this what you're lookin' for?" Malcolm held the hat out to him, the light blue turned a dark royal. 

"Thanks," he mumbled. He ignored the man's shadow lingering over him.

"I don't know if you noticed, Ang, but there appears to be a damsel in distress over there." Bon motioned over to Cliff's captive, Phil thinking it rather fun if he helped. Georganne had taken Hannah's ankles in her hand, retrieving her from the 'mean little louts'.

"Georganne's got her, don't she?" he asked seeing the sight for himself. "I think it's what the little minx gets." Bon tsked through his teeth. 

"If you say so." Suddenly not knowing what to do with himself, Angus stood there, inspecting the hat to kill time. A loose thread on the inside caught his attention for a mere minute. "You're not gonna dry off any quicker standin' here, Ang."

"You're not gettin' any more girls standin' here talkin' to me," Angus retaliated with a sigh. "Silver ain't comin'?"

"I invited her. Said she was busy, ya' know. With what I dunno, but I don't think she's comin'." Bon's knee lifted out of the water straining to see what he stepped on through it. 

"She's been busy a lot these days, eh?" 

Bon shrugged. "We've been busy too. Or at least, you an' Mal have."

"George too. I know he's not producin' this album or anythin', but he's been thinkin'." George's name piqued Bon's interest. 

"Does he need me to play the bagpipes again?"

"Nothin' like that." Angus and Bon walked through the water squinting from the sun lying low on the horizon. Malcolm's voice rang out behind them, a few strangers having found the group and desiring some conversation. "He's thinkin' the band ought to move to London."

"London?" Bon repeated.

"Says the business up there is preferable an' we'll have better resources to get us higher up ya' know." Bon looked over his shoulder. 

"Do they know?"

"Mal does."

"Does he agree with him?"

"A little bit," Angus replied. "He knows London's got the best people to go to for things like this an' we can record the next album up there with better equipment than the shit we got thrown at us."

"When did he tell you this?"

"George told us last night at Mum's place. I don't know what I think...I mean, I agree with 'em an' all. If you get famous in Europe you're doin' all right, ya' know?"

"What makes you hesitate?"

"Hannah," Angus answered truthfully. "Her job is down here. She just got it transferred down here last year an' I hate to make her change it again. An' I know she doesn't like to travel much, which she knew what she was gettin' into with that. I feel bad though."

"Her little writing gig?" Angus nodded, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and feeling awfully disappointed as they were soaked. "She do anything else?"

"She paints. She tries to make time for it anyway, an' it's hard findin' an art store to get anything anyway."

"London prolly has some good stuff, ya' know," Bon thought. "They're a busy place over there."

"And then...there's the rabbit," Angus mentioned. "An' her litter she had a while back."

"What are you gonna do with 'em?"

"Sell them," Angus shrugged. "We decided to give them to a vet an' maybe find someone who will take them if they've been taken care of medically, ya' know. It's a lot of work to move one rabbit as it is from one place to another."

"Does Hannah know about movin'?" Bon asked kicking up a bit of kelp. 

"Haven't told her. Thought about tellin' her today but I'm not really in the mood." He smiled to himself. "Maybe I ought to tell her for her little idea today. Gettin' me all wet."

"Ya' know Ang, I think the best payback for that is gettin' her wet in return," Bon stated making Angus scoff. "An' lay off it, she's jus' havin' fun, yeah?"

"Funny little thing she is," Angus mumbled. He took a glance behind him to see what trouble she'd gotten herself into, but the appearance of cameras and curious strangers got the best of her and she vanished. Scanning the beach he saw nothing except a few tiny footprints headed up the shore. Clenching the hat he turned around and waded through the water to follow them. "I'm off, Bon, I'll see you in a bit for the fireworks then."

"Take my advice, Ang," Bon called after him. "Get her wet!"

Angus' middle finger was the last thing Bon saw before the figure turned a corner behind a big rock. 

Sitting on the sand with her knees pulled up to her chest was a shivering Hannah. Angus took the spot next to her and set the hat on her head. "Hello," she muttered in surprise.

"Hello," Angus replied making himself comfortable. The sand was still warm but the water was beginning to chill. "I'd uh, give you a jacket if I had one."

"That's alright." She leaned on him instead, Angus closing his eyes. 

"So what's a young lady such as yourself doin' here?" he asked.

"I don't like cameras." Angus opened his eyes and saw a multitude of people getting their pictures taken with the band, Linda and Georganne stepping aside for their own conversation. They didn't look like they meant any harm, but it was nice to enjoy themselves without the extra company. At least for a few minutes. 

"This is nothin'," Angus said. "We've had swarms of people, dozens of people surround us on the street. All of them conveniently with pens and things...course that means we don't have to snoop around for pens on our own." He moved a few strands of hair away from her eyes and she looked up at him. He had yet to find another pair to contend with them, they were the biggest he'd ever seen. Maybe they didn't always shine, maybe they weren't the prettiest color, but boy were they hard to look away from. "None of us like it all the time, but it means we're gettin' known, our music is sellin'. An' ya' know that keeps a roof over our heads."

"Hey, my writing sells too," she said giving his arm a little pinch. "And I've had a few people like my paintings as well. Of course, those aren't as good and not getting much better I'm afraid."

"I like 'em. If you ever want a nude model or somethin' I can take a crack at it."

"Do you think anyone will want a picture of you on their wall naked?" He shrugged.

"Some people already have photos," he said. "But actually I was thinkin' maybe I'd be the artist this time around, ya' know?" Sticking his tongue out he giggled at the little face his friend gave him. "It's strictly professional, I ain't gonna try anything."

"You ain't gonna paint anything," Hannah replied using his shoulder as an armrest. "I suppose next you'll write a smut column for my newspaper."

"Well, I do have a touch of experience." Crossing his arms at his cleverness, he leaned back against the rock and listened to her laugh. She was disgusted yes, but her dirty mind always got the best of her, and she found humor in it. Behind the rock, the visitors were still there, Bon and Cliff having a great time entertaining them. Shadows from umbrellas littered the area and some people were gathering their children to head back to their respective hotels. A few stayed out, waiting for the festive fireworks promised every year. Looking toward the sun he could see it beginning to set, but it'd be a few minutes before total darkness. Standing up, he offered Hannah his hand. "Here, take a walk with me."

She stood up with his hand in hers. "Why?"

"There's a few things we ought to talk about."

 

Their footsteps fell to the darkness behind them as they walked the length of the beach. Their clothes still stuck to their skin and the air grew colder. Hand in hand, hearing the cheers and yells of gathering crowds setting up to watch the fireworks. Bon had gathered Malcolm over his shoulder, a bottle of whiskey he found in his hand, ignoring Malcolm's request to be set down. Linda offered no help, rather taking company to Georganne for a few minutes. Cliff and Phil stood knee-high in the water while the growing waves splashed over them. 

"What about Cara?"

"Can't very well leave her behind, yeah?"

"I meant does she know?" Angus shrugged, smoking a brand new cigarette from a pack he bought. 

"She's still pretty young ya' know? I think if Mal's thinkin' about it he's let Linda and Cara know too. But it won't mean a pinch to her, as long as her parents are with her."

"What about Hermione?" Hannah couldn't bear the thought of leaving her precious rabbit behind. "And her children? We still have to take them all to a vet."

"Hermione can come too, of course," Angus assured, knowing good and well Hannah would not have given him a choice. "She's our rabbit, ya' know. I'd let her kids come too but it's easier if they stay here, ya' know? Find a vet close by that can do all she needs to an' then we send them off to people, or the vet can take 'em, I dunno." He waved a cloud of smoke away from his face. 

"Those poor bunnies. I wish they could stay with their mother."

"I bet they're clawin' the cage tryin' to get out," Angus laughed. "I wonder what Mr. Nelson's puttin' 'em through..."

 

Two slippers shuffled across the floor, belonging to a man with a teaspoon in his right hand and a glass of water in the other. The spoon clanked against the glass leaving a high note to echo through the kitchen, making four pairs of rabbit ears to perk. "Sounds nice, huh? I used to be able to play a whole song using only spoons and glasses. They fill up the glasses with different amounts to get the notes right." He hit the glass again. "You rabbits are awfully small. I always thought Angus would get himself a dog. Or a cat." He shuffled to the living room, still talking. Hermione took to grooming her son's fur. Setting the glass on the coffee table, he took to a nightstand and opened the drawer. "This apartment doesn't allow pets. But I got a hamster anyway." He rifled through the drawer, picking up papers, a leadless pencil, and a newspaper article. "Angus is a good guy, ya' know? I've known him for a long time. Got himself a nice wife too. I wasn't invited to the wedding, I couldn't go anyway. Need to feed my hamster." He closed the drawer and made his way to a rack hosting a collection of albums. Mr. Nelson inspected each and every one. "It's really too bad he couldn't get a dog. One that didn't have to be in a cage all the time." The last album was titled "Who's Next" and he set it down. His eyes wandered up to the new clock on Angus' wall, showing the correct time. "Now that's a nice clock." He stepped closer to have a better look. "I wonder where he collected a specimen like that. Angus really is a sweet man. He gave me his old one a while ago. I took it gladly. Can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want a clock like that, but I see why now. Very nice...indeed."

A few minutes later as Hermione wordlessly got herself and her children ready for bed, Mr. Nelson's voice rang out from the bathroom. "You must take after your mother, don't you?" he asked. "You don't talk much. That's okay. Angus doesn't talk much either, at least, not when he's with me." The toilet flushed and the sink turned on. "I think it's rather neat that Angus can play guitar. I've never heard him unless he's playing and one of us has our door open. I went to check my mail one day and I heard him play. He's quite good. I used to be able to play songs with spoons and glasses of water. Have I mentioned that already?"

 

Angus chuckled to himself. "I'm sure he'd gettin' along quite well with 'em." Hannah didn't answer. He squeezed her hand gently. "They're fine. We'll get somethin' figured out for 'em."

Upon reaching a small hidden area surrounded by a crescent of large rocks, Angus stopped walking and sat down with his back against the boulder. Hannah took her place next to him, the cigarette crushed in his fingers and set next to him. A few children began screaming, then laughing. Had Cara been a few years older she would have loved to join up with them and make a few friends, but Linda let her stay with her parents for the Christmas weekend, albeit reluctantly. Her mother was pleased to have her over, ready to spoil her with the best presents. Hannah had met the little one more than a few times, happy to have someone as small as she to take care of. A human anyway. Angus was absolutely enthralled with her when she visited. Something about her little hands taking his fingers to chew or her babbling turning to a few words now and again made him beam. Hannah teased him about being in love with the "itty bitty", as she called her.

Angus closed his eyes to the sound of the distant waves and merry children. Hannah didn't seem to mind his head resting on hers so he didn't bother moving it. His hand met with another, then a second one, ten fingers playing with the five. Angus seemed to understand it was a method Hannah adopted to calm herself down if she was feeling stressed or nervous. Her nails lightly traced the lines on his palm or gently rubbed the callouses from his guitar. She assumed he would be taking it on the trip to the beach but he left it by the bedside. It would have been nice to have at a time like this. He sighed, shifting a bit from the rock pressing against his back. "Mmm...soap in every nook an' cranny in the morning, and sand in the evening."

"You didn't have to sit here, you know," Hannah informed.

"We'd be in New Zealand by now had we kept goin'. The trip to England would take longer then." He opened his eyes, surprised to see how dark the world had gotten. The voices of people were still audible, but no one had come to their part of the beach. The fans had all departed satisfied and any reporters had stolen away with adequate footage and photos. If any of the band came looking for the pair, Angus would have told them to bug off. "Hey." He nudged Hannah who had her eyes closed and seemed to be dozing. She stirred, looking up to meet his gaze. "Would you want to live in London?"

The question didn't seem to bother her. She was expecting it, and many others like it. Traveling the world came with marrying a musician, and for that alone she was willing to make the trip. Then came the question of her work. Sure there were newspapers to write for in England, but that would mean starting over, along with lesser pay. It would also mean leaving home. The one place Hannah knew to be a sanctuary. Where she could stay if she was having one of her bad days, or if thoughts of Travis wouldn't go away in the expected time. Where Angus and Malcolm's mother lived, who she loved with her entire heart. Then again, as expected with children, Malcolm and Angus had been given that spirit, that love by their mother. If ever she missed that special Young company, she'd always have her two best friends. 

And her rabbit of course. 

"I think it'd be nice to spend a Christmas in the cold again," she commented, finally giving a form of an answer to his question. "Have real winters with real snow."

"We have real winters," Angus said.

"Winters down here are like spring days where I'm from."

"Maybe you'll end up gettin' yourself an English accent."

"Why not you?"

"Yours is more impressionable, ya' know?" he said. "Mine is already set in, I've already been through two accents, I don't need anymore."

"I like my accent just fine," she retorted turning to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I like it too. But I remember when you first lived here before..." He swallowed. "Before you left. You were startin' to get a hint of an Aussie accent." He shrugged, smiling down at her. "Awful cute."

"I am not cute," she pouted.

"Sorry," he coughed. "How 'bout smokin' hot?"

Hannah nearly choked on her own spit. "Oh, gross!" Angus laughed quite hard at the reaction he got out of her. 

"What, you don't like that?"

"Hate it," she replied. 

"Alright, alright, so you're not cute, and you ain't smokin'. What then?"

"How about..." She scrunched her nose in thought. Angus waited patiently with his hands on her waist, fluttering his eyelashes. Finally, her nose evened out and she opened her eyes. "How about nice."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"Nice? Of all the words used to describe my wife an' you want me to use nice?"

"You lost your naming privileges, Angus, so I came up with one." Sighing in defeat, he just looked at her. Of all the words used to describe her, nice was the last to use. In some situations, for more than one reason. 

"What would you call me?"

"You?" He nodded. "Sweet. Funny. Handsome."

"Smokin'?"

"Not right this minute, no." She pointed to the crushed cigarette he placed in the sand. He chuckled. "Maybe a little mean in the mornings."

"...you think I'm handsome?" he asked, clearly surprised but pleased by the words.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." He wasn't quite done yet.

"Would you say I'm boyishly handsome, or Vogue magazine handsome?"

"Handsome."

"That's not an answer." Hannah sighed.

"Listen. No man on earth has ever looked as good as you do right now, and no man ever will," she finished, wondering if that would satisfy him. She asked him if it did. 

"I think you might be stretchin' the truth a bit, sweetheart."

"It's still a hell of a lot better than what you said about me," she said. She relaxed against him, taking in the last few drops of daylight quickly fading behind them. A few stars had made their appearance, twinkling amidst navy ink. Angus took notice of them, then turned to see Hannah's eyes. He thought to himself.

"Well then, how's this," he started. "There ain't one damn star in that sky that sparkles like those damn eyes of yours. Eh?" he asked, waiting for her approval. Despite his choice of wording, Hannah began to blush, thinking he really was rather sweet and how glad she was that it was so dark outside. "That better?"

She smiled. "Thank you, Angus." He smiled back, keeping his eyes glued to the stars just inches away. Forgetting for an instant that they had anywhere to be, or that any one of their company could be worried sick about them and calling their names, they simply took in the sight of the other one, making mental note of anything else they could compliment on. Angus could see her eyes were enchanting, and her nose was...unique to say the least. Her hair was soft and her ears were sweet, but he always went back to the eyes. Two of the darkest he'd ever seen but they shone so...nice. Nice. Angus quite disagreed with that word. Even as a kid, she could be a real pain in the ass.

Knowing anything concerning asses was not what Hannah would like to be complimented on, he continued studying her face until his gaze landed on her lips. Very small, but very pink. Very structured as well he might add. But of course, usually pouting or eating, or covered in drool. Angus decided he liked them just the same. 

It appeared Hannah had been thinking the same thing when with a quick glance back to her eyes, he saw she too was staring at his own lips. They differed in many ways, but in some ways were complimentary. Which was exactly what Angus was going for. 

Waiting to see what she would do, he stayed perfectly still, not wishing to scare her away. Slowly she inched forward, apprehensive about making a move, but trusting Angus enough not to push her into anything. He just waited.

Narrowing his eyes he accepted her lips as she pressed them together much lighter than he expected. She pulled away instantly, Angus' breath caught up in his throat. In a second she connected them again, this time putting slight pressure against his. Her arms were still around his neck and she used this to pull him closer, Angus trying the same thing with his hands on her waist. The result was a slightly awkward smush, quickly remedied by Hannah tilting her head. She pulled away a second time, catching her breath before attacking him again. Angus, taken by surprise at her eagerness, wasn't one to object, however, and played along to whatever suited her fancy. He felt her move within his grasp, suddenly feeling her weight pushing him against the rock behind him. One leg on either side of his lap supported her, her neck craning to access him easier. Hugging her close to him he put more effort on his part as well, ready to stop should she say so. 

Never in a million years would he have guessed he'd be here that minute. As a kid, he'd figure he'd be in his own band, somewhere across the country with a steady girlfriend. He'd have prayed to whatever god was out there for Susan. To embrace his childhood friend in such a passionate way would have abhorred him. Loud booms shook his skull from the fireworks. The show must have started without them, Malcolm probably muttering to himself about how he knew this would happen. With a damn smug smile on his damn smug face. Putting the thought out of his mind he focused on keeping a steady attitude. Having it his way would mean a good kick in the pants, neither one hesitant that she'd do it. Instead, he gently squeezed her sides, humming to himself in content. 

Hannah pulled away a third time, changing her destination from his lips to his neck. He made the slightest gasp, keeping his eyes open lest he should lose himself completely to the strange new behavior of his wife. Moving his hands slightly upward he let her kiss him, doing his best not to let the world know he was enjoying it. Breathing steadily gradually became more difficult with each growing display of affection. Heat spread throughout his face and neck and he was sure he could match a tomato. Finally giving in, he closed his eyes letting Hannah take the lead, not wanting to frighten her, as well as to relish what he could.

Everything seemed to happen so fast. One minute the rock began pushing against his back, a fact he couldn't be bothered with at the moment, and the next the pressure on his neck ceased and he was left panting in his spot, eyes fluttering open. His hands never left her side, hoping good and well whatever ended their moment wasn't his fault. Small pants fell on his neck where lips had once been, unable to cool his hot skin. Her head rested on his shoulder, holding onto his neck almost for dear life. A few moments passed before either could even think of speaking again and when they did it was broken speech.

"I-was enjoyin' that ya' know," Angus sighed.

Hannah lifted her head just enough to see him flushed in the darkness. "I could-I could tell."

To blush again would probably be hazardous to his health but he couldn't help it at a time like this. Being honest with himself he hardly noticed as the rock behind him claimed the other half of his attention. Shifting his position he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, letting her rest against him. Besides the sound of their breathing, the beach was awfully quiet. Some voices could still be heard at a distance but the fireworks had all stopped. It was then he realized they hadn't even started yet. Hannah didn't seem to want to look at him as much as he desired to see her, and he decided to use words to alleviate her embarrassment. "Hey, it was-kinda cute in a way. Oh, not cute...uh, sweet. How about that word?" He turned her head a bit to gauge her reaction to a substitute word attempting to wipe the pout off her face. "Why-why won't you look at me?"

Her nose pressed against his flesh, holding him as tightly as her position could allow her. Turning her hands to fists she clutched his shirt, feeling the fabric through her fingers. "I was kind of...enjoying it too."

"I would-I would hope so," he panted feeling the warmth in his face recede. "Nothin' wrong with that." She hugged him tighter, Angus shifting again so she wouldn't strangle him. He could feel every aspect of him calming down, his breathing getting slower and slower. His heart wasn't pounding in his head anymore. "What's gotten into you?...you okay?"

"Angus?" Her voice was muffled by his neck. "Can we...take things...slow?" she asked. Looking up at him, at last, to see what he thought, nervous when he didn't answer. "Slow-er anyway?"

"Yeah," he finally said. "yeah, of course we can." Smiling when she smiled he held her against him again, wrinkling his nose when she nuzzled gently into his neck. The water ahead of them really was beautiful. The sun had gone completely down by now, the dark blue reflecting off the waves while the stars shimmered across the surface. The moon was somewhere around, kneading the tides like bread dough. An enormous crack of lightning and a drum of thunder beat the sky, streaks of red and gold falling to the sea below. From their position they couldn't see it very well, but they were both far too comfortable to move. "I bet they're wonderin' where we are."

"They must not be too worried if they're not looking."

"Let 'em look. If they come here we'll tell 'em to get their own room, yeah?" Her laugh was a mixture of mirth and sympathy, laden with guilt at pausing their romantic endeavors. He wanted to hear it again. "Bet you'll want a cigarette of your own after that, huh?"

There it was. This time having forgotten to include the guilt. "I wouldn't want to get nicotine on your shirt."

"Oh is that all? Well, just wipe it off on your shirt then."

"Yours is black, it won't show up as well."

"An' get Daffy Duck hooked?" Angus asked referring to the picture of Daffy on the front. "I will not be held responsible for that."

"They're your cigarettes from your pack you bought with your money," she reminded him. "I think I'm scot-free.

"I think you'd really regret not bailin' me out," Angus murmured. 

"What, is a convict gonna make you their girlfriend?" Hannah laughed again, and Angus tried his damnedest not to. 

"Very fuckin' funny," he grinned. After a fashion they were quiet again, hearing the symphony of the sky cannons. A few of them reached their view, and they watched with intrigue. 

"It's just like the fourth of July," Hannah said, nuzzling again. "Sure feels like July."

"That's why we ought to live an' England a while. As you said, they get snow up there." When she didn't respond he figured she had fallen asleep. He was tempted to move and carry her back to their room when she stirred. 

"Thank you, Angus," she mumbled, Angus unsure if he heard her. He opened his mouth to ask when she beat him to it. "For being a gentleman."

"Well, thank you for bein' a lady," he responded. "Or else I gotta make a quick announcement to my family an' friends."

There is was. Again. 

"As long as we're on the subject of chivalry an' the like," he began again, smoothing a few stray hairs away. "might I be allowed to kiss you? Like a gentleman?"

Taking a minute to think over his words, and realizing he meant no ill will, she sat herself up. "Yes," she nodded. "Like a gentleman."

And he kept his promise. With the slightest pressure, he took her lips in his, breathing and heart rate as slow as they started. His hands left her waist and met up with her hair, gently running his fingers through it. Over time without either of them knowing, they grew competitive, either one proving something to the other. Whatever it was they didn't know, and they really didn't care. 

Figuring it was safe to go a little further, knowing she could stop at any time, and a bit more relaxed at having done it before, Hannah migrated to his cheek, eventually kissing his neck again. Angus wasn't sure what she meant by slow anymore, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't if he tried, as no sound could leave his mouth. The fireworks were twice as loud as the ones in his head mixed with the real thing. He opened his eyes hoping to catch one more but soon dropped the idea. Remembering where they were, it being a public place and all, he considered stopping now unless Hannah didn't mind someone happening to come across them like this. Bullocks. Of course she would mind. 

Or, rather than stop, they could simply find a place less...inhabited. But something had to be done.

Angus managed to get his question out, hoping she heard him over the sky show. "Do you-do you wanna go somewhere else? So we're...not so out in the open?"

Hannah pulled away the fourth time that night to look him straight in the eye. "But-we'll miss the fireworks."

"Believe me, sweetheart, I ain't missin' any fuckin' fireworks."

 

Many 'I love you's' were exchanged that night. Many witty remarks were made along with repressed feelings exposed. Angus stirred from sleep a little later, blinking back the lack of it coating his eyes. The clock barely visible in the dark room read three twenty-four. The summer night grew warmer unlike the previous one, giving Angus a reason to open the window before they went to sleep. The leg of his pants was hanging on the edge of the bed. He kicked it off and it fell to the floor. Stretching sounded pretty good until he realized he could only get one arm out of Hannah's grip. She had fallen asleep next to him, their conversations trailing off word by word until they succumbed to slumber. Easing his other arm away, stretching, and resting it above her shoulders, he pulled the covers up over her more. In his view, the room was hot, while in hers it was rather cold. The black shirt with Daffy Duck on it changed hands and now covered her in her sleep. 

The fireworks ended some time ago with one or two more exploding at intervals. None had gone off since midnight. Gathering Hannah, who slept rather soundly for once in a long time, in his arms, he buried his face in the pillow next to her own and kissed her head. Feeling exhaustion returning, he mumbled one last confession.

"Ya' little walnut..."


End file.
